YOU WANT TO SAVE THEM ALL
by Jillian W
Summary: archive - original story1 - please read "To Save Everyone" instead
1. CHAPTER ONE: THE WANDERERS

CHAPTER ONE: THE WANDERERS

_ Traveling the desert in a new direction, a lone wanderer happened upon a group of disheveled, half dead people – hundreds. They told of how they came to consciousness at the edge of a cliff. In the gorge below, they'd seen the mangled, fresh corpses of the majority of the citizens of their town. All were present, dead or alive, in a vast sea of sand, with no clue of where they were, how they got there, and why all of these people had apparently fallen from the cliff. They said they'd wandered and come upon a shipwreck, and lived from the plant for the past few weeks, but it was severely weak already. They had wandered ever since the plant died, just days before._

_ The wanderer offered them the remainder of her water and food, and covered her head tightly with a crude brown cloak. _

_ Hoping to see something in the distance, they traveled on, carrying the sick. _

_ Days wore on until the group could hardly stand, and as luck would have it, there was a town. The people following the wanderer begin to fret that in times of great hardship, as now, no one would want to take them in. So their leader ran ahead, using the last of her energy to reach the outskirts of this little village. There she saw something she took for a mirage – a six square foot plot of garden, carefully tended and green. As she ran closer, the mirage proved real, and frantic she ran to it. _

She collapsed at its edge, and reached out to touch it, but a man ran at her, screaming, and plucked her hand away. 

"Those are delicate!" he cried. And then he noticed that she couldn't move from thirst. 

He carried her to his home, where two female friends of his offered her water and a seat. 

As she struggled to tell them about the people coming, the larger of the girls ran out to ask the villagers to take some people in per home. They all ran to the poor wanderers, helping them into their homes.

But the man wanted to know how they'd gotten stranded out there. 

She told him about their sudden consciousness to the mounds of bodies below the cliff. 

The man took on a solemn demeanor, and turned away.

"Well, I suppose I'll need to write up a report about all this, and see if you and these poor people can receive some compensation," the smaller girl reflected, then turned to introduce herself. "I'm Meryl Strife, of the Bernardelli Insurance Agency. This is Vash…not to be confused with the legendary ace gunman Vash the Stampede, of course…"

Vanessa glanced at this Vash, who was now smiling in a friendly manner. "Hi. You'll be safe here," he offered. 

"Nice to meet you," the wanderer replied, holding out a trembling hand in greeting, but unable to extend the greeting fully. "I'm Vanessa…" she murmured, and directly passed out.

The two exchanged worried glances, and went to assist the villagers, who themselves were far too busy tending to the sick and thirsty to worry of explanations.

_ Over the next weeks, the villagers made personal sacrifices to heal and feed the wanderers. Vanessa recovered after resting for a few days, and became suddenly afraid that someone peeked under her hood or cloak while she was unconscious. But no one seemed to pay much attention to her in the rush of taking care of the wanderers. She felt relieved, but still wished to return to her cave._

     "Oh, you're awake!" the smaller girl cheerily stated as she walks in after work. "Now go upstairs and have a nice, long bath before dinner!"

Vanessa objected, but Meryl insisted almost forcefully, and after checking her backpack and making certain that no contents are missing, Vanessa plodded upstairs. Covering the windows, and locking the door, she took a bath and washed her cloak and dress in the water. She changed into some oversized pants and a shirt Meryl laid out for her, pulled on her belt (with book), and hung her own things up to dry. She draped a cloth over her head and wet hair to conceal her ears and went downstairs to dinner.

At dinner, the three talked about the problems incurred due to the wanderers and the lack of medical knowledge for some of their infections. Vanessa sat silently, waiting for a moment to thank them but to also tell them that she needs to return home. But as they chatted, she noticed that the man with the gravity-defying blonde hair was scratching at his shoulder a lot.

"What's the matter?" she asked him. 

"Huh?" he replied, turning to her inquisitively with clear, oceanic eyes. "Oh…nothing."

"But…" Vanessa insisted, "there's something wrong, isn't there. You shouldn't itch so hard, you'll hurt yourself. Then she noticed bandage edges at his neck. Oh, you really need to not itch it," she insisted again, troubled. "Itching is a sign of skin healing. But itching it like that, you'll get a terrible scar. Now let me treat it, and it won't bother you. It's the least I can do after you let me stay here."

Millie smiled. "You must be a doctor!"

"No," Vanessa explained, "never a doctor. I was a midwife once, but never a doctor."

"Really?" Meryl piped in. "You know, we really could use anyone with medical knowledge now. I'll go to city hall tomorrow morning and get you on a payroll as a village nurse!"

"But…But I have to sell my drawings and get back home…" Vanessa mumbled.

"Nonsense!" Meryl exclaimed. "We need you here! Otherwise these people are going to die!" she exaggerated.

Vanessa gritted her teeth. Staying amongst people had always been fun while it lasted, but always ended in violence and betrayal.

Vash, Meryl and Millie were all smiling widely at her. After all, she wasn't sure if she could make it back to the cave, as far off course as she had wandered. Without stocking up enough supplies, she would never make it back alive. Earning a wage could help to but such supplies…

So she made no further objection. 

"And you can stay with us!" Millie cheerily noted. Meryl looked miffed. Millie laughed, "Because there's no room in town for you anywhere else!"

_ Vanessa did indeed stay at their home, but was careful to keep her hair rolled up and pinned even while sleeping, and held her book in her arms as she slept for protection. She slept on a cot in Millie and Meryl's room upstairs, and Vash took his usual spot on a cot in the living room. When she awoke, the house was empty. She went to the kitchen and cooked herself breakfast. She found a note from Meryl, saying that she and Millie are at work, and that she should rest at home that day. Her nursing shifts would begin the next day. So Vanessa stared out the window for a while, watching the people and children talk and interact. She looked for some paper to draw them, but found nothing. The search was interrupted by a crash upstairs. She froze, heard a door open, shut, and click locked, then footsteps descended the staircase. Vash appeared at the bottom, frowning, carrying a tray of upset cup and plate, with various bits of foot scattered around. Vanessa remained unseen in a shadow by the window, and watched Vash enter the kitchen. She heard yelling upstairs and snuck up to investigate. As she reached for the lock, Vash grabbed her shoulder from behind. She whirled around, startled, but Vash hurriedly ushered her down the stairs._

  
  


NEXT SECTION:  http://members.aol.com/artchick12/2wanderers.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	2. CHAPTER ONE: THE WANDERERS (cont1)

CHAPTER ONE: THE WANDERERS (continued1)

"Holy crap, don't go in there!" he said, hushed. "There's a really dangerous, angry guy up there!"

Vanessa tried to gather words. "Is that room a jail or something?" 

He shook his head no. 

"Why on earth is some scary man up there then?" she asked skeptically.

"The townspeople don't know he's so mean, he explained, and if they find out, they'll through him in jail, so don't tell anyone he's a nasty guy, okay?"

"Yeah, fine, alright," Vanessa agreed.

Vash relaxed. "I don't want him in jail because he's hurt awfully bad, and it's my fault. I need to heal him and show him there's no reason to be a criminal, you know?"

"I…guess so," she answered. "How's it your fault?"

"Um…" Vash cleared his throat and thought. "I, um, well…he's kind of my brother, and um…we got into a pretty nasty disagreement about his beliefs and mine, and we started to fight."

Vanessa gave him a look of disapproval. "With guns," she added.

Vash nodded, scratching the back of his head with embarrassment. "But, it's not like I would want to hurt him, but he was going to kill me, and I had to do something to keep him from killing…everybody…else."

Vanessa thought. "So what's his side of the story?"

"You don't wanna know," Vash muttered.

"Vash, if he's still bedridden after a whole month, I need to tend to him. Please accompany me, or something. I'm…" she hesitated. "I'm not afraid of bullies like your brother."

Vash gritted his teeth. "I know you're good at this whole bullet hole thing, but he's really violent…"

"He's been rejecting meals?" she asked. "I'll make him something he won't turn down." She went to the kitchen, rattling pans and opening cabinets. Minutes later, she came out with a tray of little sandwiches and a bowl of fruit pieces. "He'll eat this, if he's not to starve," she claimed.

Vash unlocked the door, undid the chain, and unhinged the bolt. Opening the door, he stepped in first, and kept Vanessa behind him as he closed the door and stepped towards the bed. In it, another blond man lay, his face sullen and showing a thin beard. His chest was exposed, and wrapped like a mummy. He was propped up on pillows and sat rigid as though moving hurt him greatly.

"I told you I don't want your…" he began to yell.

Vanessa peeked at him over Vash's shoulder.

"Now what the hell is this?" Knives snarled. "Bringing the trash in to stare?" He smiled wide and narrowed his steely blue eyes. "Get a good look, darling. I'll kill you soon."

Vash cleared his throat. "Vanessa, this is Knives. Knives, Vanessa. She's staying with us for a while. Try to be nice," he pleaded.

Knives snickered.

"Knives?" Vanessa asked. "That's really your name?"

"What of it," Knives snapped, his face reddening.

"Nothing," Vanessa muttered, then giggled. "You look just like Vash, only with a less bizarre haircut."

Vash grinned, rubbing the back of his spiky hair.

Knives' face grew hot in anger. "She has the audacity to mock us…" he growled in a pure evil tone.

Ignoring Knives' comment, Vanessa took the tray from Vash and walked to Knives' bedside. Vash thought frantically for words to tell her not to approach, but he felt powerless. 

"I made something delicious for you, she said, placing the tray on the bedside table. And you'll waste away without food; but maybe it's best if we just let you slip away." She sighed dramatically, smiling, and went to sit on a stool at his bedside.

Knives jerked away from her, hissing, "Get away from me!" The sudden motion pained him, and he began to concentrate.

Vash turned to look at Knives' left arm, which Vanessa thankfully could not see from where she sat. Knives' skin was beginning to angel arm, and a few small blades began to peek through the surface. But the strain on the wounded man was too intense, and he was forced to subside his attack. Knives' arm went back to normal, and he gritted his teeth as he watched her stand and move away. His body remained rigid, his face twisted into a disgusted frown. He glared down at the tray, then turned to Vash. "Keep the vermin away from me."

Vash, greatly relieved that his brother was still too weak to maintain his weapons, moved to the closer stool instead, and offered Vanessa the one further from Knives. "There," he said, "Now eat up."

Knives turned to Vash. "I can't lift my arms you ass," he hissed, wriggling his fingers slightly. Then back to Vanessa, he added, "Staring at me will only make me kill you slower later."

Vash held a sandwich out to him between his fore- and middle-finger, a few inches from his face. Knives grumbled, and reluctantly craned his neck out to take it in his teeth, and swallowed it without chewing.

Vash flashed a goofy grin. Knives glared at him. Vash held out another sandwich and Knives ate this as well. He ate the entire meal with some fuss, but the goal was attained.

As he swallowed the last, Vanessa crossed her arms. "Now it's time to change your bandages – I'm quite certain there's something wrong with your healing."

Knives' face reddened from embarrassment or anger.

"Hey, Vash," Vanessa asked, "Can you fetch a bucket of warm, soapy, salty water? And some dressings?"

Vash hesitated. Should he leave her here with Knives? Good Lord, what would he say to her? What an embarrassing brother to have, he thought. "Come help me carry it all, okay?" he asked her.

She nodded. As they returned, they carefully snipped off the wrappings and carefully peeled off the bandages. Each time Vanessa's skin touched Knives, he shuddered in repulsion. 

His bullet wounds were much like Vash's: one at each shoulder. But his side wound was clearly a deeper one, seriously close to vital organs. This seemed to pain him the most.

"Um," Vash mentioned, "there's one to each thigh, too." He pulled back Knives' sheets and removed the bandages to reveal these, deep and painful as well. (Note that Knives is not nude, but rather wearing shorts.)

Vanessa stared at the wounds, frowning. "This is an advanced infection. It'll require some strong medicine. For now, let's get these clean." She dunked a small towel into the soapy water, and Knives turned to glare at her. "I'm not going to let you use that," he snarled. "You're trying to poison my wounds, I bet."

"Of course not," she replied, laughing uncomfortably.

Vanessa frowned, and brought the towel to his shoulder, but Knives snapped at her hand and bit her. He then spit several times, as though a bug had flown into his mouth. 

Vanessa dropped the towel back into the bucket, grasping at her bleeding hand.

Vash grabbed at her hand as well, checking the damage. The bite was deep enough to break skin, but not seriously. "Knives!" he exclaimed, "Why'd you…?"

"No, I'm okay," Vanessa insisted. She stared Knives down, and plunked her bloody hand into the bucket. The soap and salt stung her sharply. "Not poisoned," she declared.

Knives smiled, almost sweetly, with a drop of her blood rolling off his lip. He allowed them to clean his wounds, and replace the bandages. Holding his brother up to tend to the exit wounds, Vash was amazed at Vanessa, so calm even as her hand began to bruise around the sores. 

Finished, they gathered up the supplies to leave. Vanessa walked to the door with hands full of bloodied bandages. Behind her, Vash lifted the bucket and smiled. "I'm not going to hurt you Knives," he said.

"Oh, really," Knives replied dryly. His voice dropped to a lower, serious tone. "Take me to a plant, Vash. There's no need for me to endure this pain, just take me to a plant!"

Vash shook his head. "I know better than that," he grumbled, then followed Vanessa out. 

  
  


NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/3wanderers.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	3. CHAPTER ONE: THE WANDERERS (cont2)

CHAPTER ONE:  THE WANDERERS (cont2)

He locked the knob and slid the chain into place.  Through the door they could hear Knives yelling, cursing at the top of his lungs.  With a thud, the bolt slid in.

"Maybe you should give him something to occupy his mind, so he won't yell all day," she suggested.

"Yeah," Vash agreed, "I gave him some books, but he would only read this one - The Bible; and he'd misinterpret everything he read, really awful.  So I took them away from him."

"We should go find him some other titles then.  Like philosophy books or novels or something."

Vash nodded.

Vanessa went to wash the dishes, but Vash insisted he see to her hand first.  "I'll do it myself," she mumbled.

"Yeah, that's what I said," he replied, "But you didn't take that for an answer either."  He pulled out a chair for her next to the dinner table.

With more bandages and a fresh washcloth, Vash asked her to roll up her sleeve.  "Oh, you think so..." Vanessa said, holding her good hand to her face, and running her fingers nervously through her hair.  

So Vash took her sleeve and slid it past her elbow himself, thinking she hadn't heard.  Vanessa moved to stop him, and tried to tug the sleeve back down.

Vash grabbed her hand, asking, "Geez, what's the matter?  I can't clean it with your sleeve over it, just let me..."

Vanessa pushed the sleeve back up, held her arm by the elbow, and looked to the floor.  Taking her sore hand, Vash placed it gently on a cloth on the table.  With her arm stretched out, Vanessa bit her lip.

"...Who...who did this to you?" Vash asked firmly, staring wide-eyed at the scars covering her exposed forearm.  These scars were so numerous, and although small, they varied in shape.  At a glance, they seemed evidence of past thin cuts, stabbing wounds, short scratches, cigarette burns...and most could hardly be detected, they were so old.

"Oh, those?" Vanessa answered cheerily.  "I'm such a klutz sometimes," she lied.

Vash met her eyes.  "I know enough about scars, you know?  Just tell me the truth; whoever did this shouldn't go free, Vanessa."

Vanessa stared down at his fingers on her hand.  "People can be cruel," she replied calmly.  "And sometimes, when they're full of righteousness and anger, they're not very nice at all."

Vash frowned, trying not to cry.  He'd promised himself to keep from bawling in front of girls anymore.  He opened his mouth to speak, but Vanessa interrupted.

"Why does Knives want to go to a plant?" she asked.  "What good would a plant do him?"  

"Oh, he's just talking crazy I guess," Vash lied.

Vanessa paused, and spoke again with more urgency.  "After a month, he can't move?  Did you paralyze him!?"

Vash's eyebrow went up in surprise.  "Good Lord, no.  But just as he was showing signs of improvement, the infection set in.  Every time he moved even slightly he'd scream in pain, so he'd just stayed still." Vash looked to the floor, embarrassed in spite of himself.  "It's awful that his wounds got infected, but if he were able to move about freely now, I really would fear for people's lives."

Vanessa gave him a disbelieving look.  Did he actually want his brother to remain bedridden forever?  How dangerous could he be?

"A month in that room, alone," she reflected in a hushed voice.  "It's enough to make a man insane..."

Vash frowned, and ignored the comment.

"It's dangerous at those things, the plants, isn't it?  You think he's talking about suicide?" she whispered, concerned.

Vash was taken aback.  "No, of course not!  Knives...well, he just wouldn't do that," he asserted.

"Well," Vanessa wondered aloud, "what good would a plant do for Knives?"

Vash cleared his throat and smiled.  "Crazy talk, I'm sure!" he replied, then caught himself in a poor use of terms, and lost the grin.  He washed and bandaged her hand, ignoring the scars.  

As he finished, she quickly pulled the sleeve back down, reminded of her own body, her face red with embarrassment.  How could I be so careless? she thought, scolding herself for her sloppiness.  She hoped he hadn't begun to suspect her already.

They get to the market later, and buy some groceries and books.  After Millie and Meryl get home from work, Vanessa prepares dinner.  Meryl asks what happened to Vanessa's hand, and he claims she'd burned herself making lunch.  Vash says nothing in reply to this, knowing that Millie and Meryl are both afraid of Knives and would only yell at Vash for letting Vanessa in the room with him.  

They fear Knives ever since Vash carried him home, and they attempted to settle him into bed.  When Knives had begun to wake at first, he started to angel arm, letting the knives form on his arm, but passed out before anyone was hurt.  Soon after, a distressed Meryl said she would never go near him again, and neither should Millie.  Millie had nodded in agreement.  So Vash had tended to Knives' wounds by himself, and tried to feed him in vain.

After dinner, Vash carried the dishes to the sink.  As he washed, he saw Vanessa pull a tray of extra food from the stove.

"It's for Knives," Vanessa explained.  "He's hungry, too, I'm sure."

Vash looked around to make certain the girls were out of earshot.

"Come with me if you're concerned," she offered, walking out of the kitchen.  

Vash wiped the suds from his hands onto his jeans and walked after her.  He glanced at the girls, watching him.  Meryl narrowed her eyes in disapproval.

"Mr. Vash," Millie asked, "Are you sure it's okay to take her up there?"

"Vanessa!  Let him take care of it!" Meryl ordered.

Vanessa stopped, confused, and looked to Vash for an answer.  He shrugged.  "He's behaving himself better than usual, and he'll only eat the stuff Vanessa makes," he explained.

Vanessa his her confusion at that comment.

Meryl stood, fists at her sides.  "You took her up there!?" she asked through gritted teeth.  "How could you be so irresponsible!?"

"You got him to eat?" Millie asked Vanessa, hushed.

Vash held up his palms in defense.  "But, if he doesn't eat, he won't heal!" he replied.  "I can't just let him die!"

"Maybe you should," Meryl asserted, in a low tone.

"I can't do that!" Vash exclaimed.  "I have to...He's my brother and he's got a second chance.  Everyone deserves a..."

"He's the most dangerous criminal ever," Meryl interrupted, speaking urgently to Vanessa.  "He has no sense of reality!  He wants to kill everyone!  He's insane!"

"I know he wants to kill us," Vanessa argued, "But I'm quite sure he's not insane.  He thinks he's justified for a reason.  We need to understand his reasoning and we may be able to reach him."

"How the hell do you..." Meryl asked.  "How does she think she knows that!?  Vanessa, you're wrong!"

"Actually, she's right," Vash claimed.  "You don't have to help," he said to Vanessa, placing his hand on her shoulder. Vanessa nodded, and again walked to the stairs.

Meryl sat, steaming, as she heard the sounds of locks moving and the door shutting behind them.  "The nerve!" she declared.

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/4wanderers.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	4. CHAPTER ONE: THE WANDERERS (cont3)

CHAPTER ONE: THE WANDERERS (continued3)

"It's about time," Knives growled. Vanessa and Vash exchanged glances, and walked to the bedside stools once more. As Vanessa set the tray down by him, Knives turned to look, sweat beads peppering his face and chest.

Vash felt his forehead – he had a fever. He frowned, and asked Vanessa to fetch a cold rag.

She did so quickly, and he laid it across Knives' forehead gently.

Vanessa lifted the silverware to carve bite-sized pieces for him, but he demanded music.

"I've been sitting here in this damned room," he said, "without any occupation. Sing something for me, and try not to sound too horrible."

Vash smiled. "Yeah, Vanessa, would you mind?" he asked more pleasantly.

"Sure, I guess," she said.

"Something melancholy," Knives snapped. "I'm feeling angry."

As she fed him, she sang softly something she had heard at the plant as a child. (We know it as Radiohead's Pyramid Song.)

The lyrics:

"I jumped in the river and what did I see?

black-eyed angels swimming with me 

a moon full of stars and astral cars 

all the figures I used to see

all my lovers were there with me

all my past and futures 

and we all went to heaven in a little row boat

there was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt

I jumped in the river

black-eyed angels swimming with me 

a moon full of stars and astral cars 

all the figures I used to see 

all my lovers were there with me 

all my past and futures

and we all went to heaven in a little row boat 

there was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt"

As the song drew to a close, Knives, still grinning, turned to Vash. "Yes, the black-eyed angels," he repeated. "Take me to them, to heal me," he asked. His eyes quivered strangely, rolling slightly as he tried to focus.

Vanessa turned to Vash, startled. Her mind raced, as she thought of Knives' mentioning the plants and black-eyed angels and healing…She wondered how or if he had seen the plant angels, that he should know their black eyes. I shouldn't have chosen that song, she thought.

"He's delusional," Vash whispered. "Sure, Knives, the black-eyed angels," he said, going along with him as if he were a child. He set a philosophy book on Knives' lap, and motioned for Vanessa to leave.

Outside the door, Vanessa whispered to Vash that Knives was sick from the severity of the infection. His body wasn't fighting the infection affectively, and the fever would soon deteriorate what health Knives had left. Vash said he would take care of him, and insisted that Vanessa not enter the room. She reluctantly obeyed, returning downstairs to Meryl's angry stares.

_ The next day, Vanessa asked Vash if they could feed Knives. Vash looked wearily at her, clearly tired from caring for Knives all night, and replied, "I'll do it. You go to work; you're supposed to go to each house on this side of the street from next door to the market, and offer to tend to the sick and stuff," he told her, repeating Meryl's instructions._

_ She did as told, and was out past sundown. She returned with a strange assortment of spices and powders, and quietly began cooking and mixing them over the stove._

_ Vash cared for Knives through the day, ignoring the girls as he rushed about. When Vanessa returned late that night, and changed Vash's bandages. She went straight to sleep after once again having Vash refuse to let her help him._

Vanessa awoke to the sounds of Knives yelling. Walking downstairs, she found Vash waiting for her. "Good!" he said, "You're awake. Could you fix some breakfast? Knives is hungry and he wants to see you."

"Are you serious?" Vanessa smiled. "So, he's feeling better today? The fever passed?" she asked from the kitchen.

"Yep!" Vash answered cheerily, watching her from the doorway.

"And you're hungry too?" she asked.

"Yep!" Vash replied.

"Me too," she said, shoveling scrambled eggs and sausages onto three plates. She pulled out two trays and filled them, saying, "Let's all have breakfast together then."

Knives was sitting up, reading, as they entered. He glanced at Vanessa for a moment, and grunted approval. 

They set down the trays and sat. Vanessa gestured at Knives' hands. He was holding the book. "You're doing well," she mentioned. "You can use your arms now."

"What a clever thing you are," Knives grumbled sarcastically. He set down his book to accept a plate. He brought the fork to his lips slowly, his arm trembling.

Vanessa and Vash ate, watching his movements from the corners of their eyes. His progress both relieved and frightened them.

Finishing, Vanessa and Vash once more gathered the supplies to clean and bandage him, and took Knives' empty plate aside. Vanessa clipped off the old bandages and Vash held him up to remove them. 

"I made a powerful antibiotic to fight the infection," she explained, holding up a small jar. She took off its lid and dipped her finger inside. She dropped a small lump of the cream onto her tongue and swallowed it. "It's not poison, see?"

Knives smirked, amused, but quickly hid his grin.

Vanessa and Vash took washrags to clean his wounds. As Vanessa blotted at the front of his shoulders, Vash held Knives up and washed the backs. Vanessa took some cream and applied it to the wounds, and they bandaged them up before laying Knives back again. Knives squirmed in disgust each time she touched him, as before, but also cursed. 

Vanessa and Vash treated his thigh wounds in the same manner. Vash turned Knives onto his side so they could tend to the abdomen wound. Knives groaned in pain as they cleaned this one. Vanessa took a larger lump of cream to it.

"Aaaah!" Knives screamed, bolting up and grabbing Vanessa by arm. He panted heavily in pain, and squeezed hard on Vanessa's upper arm as he glared into her eyes.

"Ow ow, let me go," she begged, tears forming in her eyes. Though her vision blurred, she could have sworn that Knives' other arm was beginning to glow.

Vash moved quickly to pry Knives' hand loose, before the blades could form on his other hand, and heaved him back onto the bed. The pain of this movement once more cause Knives' arm to regress.

Vanessa fell to the ground, holding her arm, breathing through her teeth.

"Knives, you jerk!" Vash yelled angrily. "She's trying to help you! What gives you the right to…"

"Garbage!" Knives interrupted, a wild look in his eyes. "Human beings! Garbage! They take pleasure in our suffering, brother. Useless garbage." He settled down some, crossing his arms across his chest. "You are no longer useful to me after your medicine has run its course," he stated calmly, gazing with a casual expression to Vanessa.

Vash hurriedly re-bandaged the wound and picked up the trays and supplies. Vanessa climbed to her feet and followed him out the door. She looked back at Knives, who looked, expressionless, up at her before returning to his book.

"Really, I'm not worried," Vanessa insisted, holding her arm as she sat on the couch. It wasn't broken, but rather beginning to bruise.

Vash stood before her. "It doesn't matter, you're not going back in there. He'll go without your medicine if he's going to pull crap like that. It's just not safe for you to be in there, okay?" he insisted.

Vanessa's mouth tightened with thought. 

"Please," Vash asked, "Please understand that he's just not able to handle people right now."

Vanessa looked up. "Human beings, isn't that what he said?" she asked. "What did he mean?"

Vash looked around, thinking of a lie. "Talking crazy, again. Just ignore that, okay? Promise you won't go in there, alright?"

Vanessa sighed. "Fine, sure." She stood, and left to work for the day.

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/5wanderers.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	5. CHAPTER ONE: THE WANDERERS (cont4)

CHAPTER ONE: THE WANDERERS (last part of chapter)

_ That night, Vash tended to Knives alone, and claimed to Vanessa that he had eaten._

_ As he slept, Vash's dreams were all nightmares, in which Knives was rampaging with a smile on his bloodied face, standing in a sea of blood and flesh. He awoke, sweat-covered and panting, each time wondering if allowing Vanessa to heal the infection was such a great idea._

_ And for the next few days, Vanessa wasn't allowed in the room with Knives, despite her protests that more antibiotic should be applied to prevent a relapse. But she was kept busy each day with nursing, and Vash usually tended the garden while everyone was at work._

But returning home one day late at night, she was greeted with the slurred sounds of merriment. Vash, Meryl, and Millie were assembled about a table full of booze bottles, talking loudly amongst each other in drunken stupors. 

"Have you all eaten?" she asked them.

Vash muttered something and Millie hooted. Meryl swayed slightly in her chair.

Vanessa rolled her eyes, going to the kitchen to cook dinner for herself. Putting water to boil, she left to draw a bath upstairs. As she went, she began to hear yelling. Pressing her head to Knives' door, she heard him yelling that he was hungry. He said something about how Vash had forgotten to feed him. Vanessa went back downstairs, and asked Vash.

Millie was passed out on the tabletop, and Vash giggled.

"You forgot to feed Knives!" Vanessa told him, nudging him into attention. "He hasn't eaten all day, Vash!"

Vash looked at her with a glazed-over expression. "Oopsy, he's mad at me now!" he said in a happy stupor. He was completely plastered this time.

"Then I'm going to have to feed him," she sighed.

"Wha…?" Vash mumbled, then took a swig from a bottle.

Vanessa hesitated, but assembled a meal for Knives on a tray, and walked up the stairs. The room was silent. She undid the locks, and shoved the door open. It was dark inside. She set the tray on the floor and reached around the doorway, feeling on the table inside for the lamp. It was gone. She lit the lamp in the bathroom, and noticed that Knives' bed was empty. But he was still inside the room. She could hear his excited breathing from behind the open door.

Her heart racing, she took out her book and began to meditate on a page. She heard Knives, hiding, begin to stumble as he became disoriented from the 'spell.' But before the effect was total, he reached around the door and yanked her into the room. He slammed the door behind her, and threw her book across the floor. 

Standing, Vanessa noticed Knives guarding the door, and so she casually walked to a stool and sat. "You've healed quite quickly, haven't you?" she said, calmly. She considered diving for her book, but in a dark room she knew its futility.

Knives smiled. "I was waiting for Vash, but you came instead…" he paused, thinking. "And you didn't bring a gun like he would have, but just as well…"

He walked towards her. "I hate being incapacitated, you know? And I've spent most of the last twenty years in just such a state…"

Vanessa tried to dash around him, but was caught again. Knives grabbed her wrists in one hand and forced her against the wall. She tried to knee him in the groin, but he pressed a shin against her legs. She was stuck.

"I thought I nauseate you," Vanessa scoffed. "But you're next to me now…don't you want to recoil in disgust?"

He snickered, holding his left hand straight out to the side, letting it begin to transform and emit a little of the light. "As much as I hate humans, it is amazing how nice to look at they can be," he commented as he noticed her features in the soft, unnatural glow.

"You've got a lot of gall," she sneered, unable to turn her head to see the source of the light. "You hate humans, but you're a human…"

He slapped her hard across the face. "Bitch!! I am not!"

"You'd look prettier with your hair down," he said, recalling the angel arm and moving his hands to her face. "I'll see you at your best before I kill you." He spread his fingers and shoved them into her hair, and began to pull the hair out of the pins. But as his fingers felt her ears, his eyes lit up. 

She screamed as the pins bent and flew from her head, the pain intense (as though someone were pulling your hair out). 

As his hands were occupied, she grabbed his side wound in both hands and dug her fingers in deep until he crumpled to the floor. She grabbed her book and ran out quickly, locking the door behind her. Panting, she locked up the door and pulled her cloak over her head. Without the hairpins, her ears were exposed. She began to sob. Her face throbbing, she took up her book and concentrated on the sleeping spell page, careful not to upset the delicate chemical balance of the mind. Vanessa stayed up all night, concentrating on the page, until Millie and Meryl walked up the stairs in the morning. They assumed that Vanessa hadn't slept (her hood is pulled over her head and face), and told her to go to bed for the day.

Vanessa obeyed, but cried herself to sleep. She would have to leave now, before the others had a chance to believe Knives when he would tell them about what he had felt.

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/1plantchildren.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	6. CHAPTER TWO: PLANT CHILDREN

CHAPTER TWO: PLANT CHILDREN

Ignoring his hangover, Vash opened the door to serve Knives breakfast the next morning. He saw the lamp smashed against the wall, a cold tray of food outside the door, and a moaning Knives lying on the floor. Vash picked him up and moved him back into bed. He fed Knives between groans. 

Noticing small pieces of metal on the floor, Vash realized these were Vanessa's hairpins, all strangely bent. He picked them all up and put them in a shirt pocket.

"She came to me last night," Knives said with a forced grin.

Vash noticed a blood stain on the sheets, and lifted them to see that Knives' side was bleeding. "What did you do to her?" Vash asked solemnly, since he hadn't seen Vanessa yet that morning.

"Ah, Vanessa…" Knives said, smiling. "She's something, isn't she?"

Vash frowned. "Knives, what did you do to her?" he demanded.

"Oh, nothing really," he answered. "But she hurt me pretty well, didn't she? And she's not what you think either! I can't believe I didn't notice it before…"

"Damn it, Knives!" Vash yelled.

"Have you seen," Knives sniggered, "Her ears?"

Vash rolled his eyes, "No, so what…"

Knives' face lit up. "I felt them, Vash. They're shaped like the plant angels'!"

Vash was horrified. "You need to leave her alone; you're thinking some really crazy things now…"

"And her book!" Knives continued. "She has a power of control when she looks at it! She tried it on me! She's not human after all!" He laughed happily. "I think she's one of us!"

Vash cleared his throat. "The shape of her ears doesn't prove anything," he reasoned.

"And," Knives continued, "I saw her teeth when she screamed – most of them seem filed down, but the rest are sharp! Like the plant angels! She's one of us!"

Vash hesitated. "She screamed…why won't you leave her alone?" he whined.

"The professor had a theory," Knives remembered, ignoring his brother. "That a plant child left in the plant bulb for a time after birth would become more like the plant angel…" he thought aloud. "And her hair color, and eye color…just so perfect, she's like us! And do you realize the implications, that we've found a female plant child? A new chance to perpetuate our race…"

Vash's face reddened. "I don't buy it Knives. This is all nonsense." He thought of her scars, and how old they had looked. He remembered wondering at the time if she, too, had scars over her body. Just like him.

"Think about it, Vash. Look at those ears," he insisted. "You'll see."

Vash left with a heavy heart, locking the door and checking the girls' room. Vanessa was asleep on her cot, a cloak about her head. He was tempted, but left to wash the dishes.

Vash sat in contemplation for hours, took a bath, and finally went back to check on her. He went to lift the cloth from her face, but stopped himself.

Vanessa began to stir. "What…Did I miss work?" she asked groggily.

Vash was sitting on the bed next to her, with pliers, working at something. "Yeah, but Meryl said she'd tell everyone you're sick today. Relax."

Vanessa sat up, holding her hood close to her head.

"I'm sorry about last night. It wasn't fair for you to have to look after Knives for me."

She looked at the floor, "It's okay."

Vash frowned. "No, it's not. And I know you went in there. I'm not going to get angry with you for breaking your promise. Just tell me if he hurt you at all, okay?"

Vanessa hesitated. "I'm fine."

Vash kept his concentration on the pliers. "Go take a bath, alright? At least to wash off his blood.

Startled, Vanessa looked down at her hands and saw dried blood even under the fingernails. 

Vash stood, and held out his hand to her.

She took her hairpins from his palm without a word.

"I found them in his room, and I bent them back for you. But you don't have to use them anymore," he told her, walking to the doorway.

Vanessa covered her face in her hands. "Please just let me leave in peace," she asked softly, standing. "I never meant to hurt anyone, I swear!"

Vash smiled. "I know! But I wish you'd reconsider, I mean, we need you here!"

"It's not as simple as that, for me," she replied, disappearing into the bathroom before he could reply. She bathed quickly, and pinned her hair into spirals again.

Vash glanced at her as she came to the main room. He squinted at her, then his eyes widened in concern. "You said he didn't hurt you!"

Vanessa self-consciously held her hand over her face, to cover the large bruise and black eye she'd earned when Knives had slapped her.

"That's all he did, right?" Vash asked firmly with a frown.

Vanessa's voice grew desperate. "Oh, no, I can't sell my wares looking like this…" she whined, dropping into a chair.

"Sell what?" Vash asked, confused.

Vanessa held her hands to her face. "That's what I come to towns for…I mean, I have to sell drawings and antiques…" She didn't want to reveal that she had been scavenging, especially that she brought things from a deserted ship.

Vash's face lit into another cheerful grin. "No problem, I'll go sell them for you! I know this one merchant, he sells all kinds of weird old things, and I'm sure if I bargained some I could…"

"Okay," Vanessa accepted, hoping that Vash – as honest as he seemed – would not steal her goods. She fetched her backpack, and carefully began to unwrap and lay each item onto the tabletop. They were mainly machinery parts of various sizes and some ancient garments, but Vash grew still as he stared at the red bundle. "This," she said, gesturing at the bundle and beginning to unfold it, "Is something odd and rare I stumbled upon out there, in the middle of nowhere." She revealed the long-barreled Colt within the red coat. "Quite a find," she commented. "It's in working condition, I guess."

Vash reached for the gun, but was afraid to touch. His mouth grew dry.

"There was a red glint in the distance, and when I approached I found the gun. There was also a huge metal cross, but this thing was heavy enough to cart around that I…" she grew silent as she realized Vash's expression.

"These were mine," he choked out. "I left them there…after…when I carried Knives home…"

Vanessa could hardly imagine such a weak-willed man yielding this cumbersome weapon, but had to believe his words. "Um…you want them back? Go ahead…"

Vash thought, then smirked slightly, with a twinge of guilt and sorrow. "I don't know." He hesitated once more, then took up his Colt gently. As he held it in his palms, a single tear fell past his check. "I guess so…"

Vanessa forced a smile, not sure what to say next. 'I suppose this is the gun he used to shot Knives down,' she thought. 'Poor guy, he's got some history I'll bet.'

"Don't worry about this stuff," she said sweetly, referring to her merchandise. "I'll wait."

Vash was startled from his deep contemplation. "So you're not leaving?" he asked innocently.

She stared at his childlike expression, contrasted with the silver death machine he now held to his chest. "Er…no…not yet…"

"Oh, good," he replied, relieved. "I think I'll really need your help with Knives."

NEXT SECTION:  http://members.aol.com/artchick12/2plantchildren.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	7. CHAPTER TWO: PLANT CHILDREN (cont1)

CHAPTER TWO: PLANT CHILDREN (continued1)

Vash cleared his throat and began to explain. "I want to tell you what I think happened to those people you found in the desert.

"About two months ago, a man died. That man was able to control people's bodies, and had been leading distant populations to their death in many parts of the planet. These wanderers must have just avoided death, awakening just as the man died. The one who is responsible for the mass suicides," Vash began, "Was one of Knives' henchmen. I am the one who had to kill him." He began to choke up. "Knives' goal was – is – to kill the human race because he thinks he, and I, are higher life forms. But we're not, I mean not higher, we're just not human."

Vanessa met his eyes, trying to discern if he was lying to bait her. He seemed genuine enough...

"Pretty weird, huh?" he said, trying to smile. "You can't tell this to anyone. I'm really risking my and Knives' safety by telling you this, but I think it's your business, too…If my hunch is right."

Vanessa listened intently as Vash explained his story, about the cause of the SEEDS crash, about the angel arms. Tears rolled down his face as he related to her the chaos, the death, and his frustration. As the story ended, he looked up to see that Vanessa, too, was weeping.

Vanessa sniffled, and smiled at him. "That's the most moving story I've ever heard…It reminds me of another story I know, from this novel called…" she began, stopping when she saw the confused look he was casting her. "I forget. But anyhow, you should be proud. Not everyone can weave a tall-tale that intricate. I mean, I've heard the rumors about the legendary Human Disaster, but never any of that spaceship stuff…"

Vash snorted, insulted. "Hey, I'm not lying. This is for real."

Wavering only momentarily, Vanessa put on a convincing look of ignorance. "C'mon now, you don't really expect anyone to believe such a far-fetched…"

"Don't ridicule me," he asked solemnly. "This is deadly serious, and you know it."

"You were born from the plants?" she asked. "I…I don't think I can believe that."

Vash half smiled. "We call ourselves plant children. And we think we're the only ones. Knives thinks humans are trash because he feared what they did to Tessla and he hates that they use the plants' energy. Because they're family." He smiled at her.

She frowned back. "I can't…" she stammered. "I'm not going to take your word, I can't let myself be…tricked!"

Vash's smile evaporated, and he thought back on how, when his angel arm tendrils had touched people, they could live his memories. And when Knives wished to remind Vash of anything he couldn't recall on his own, he had placed his left (angel arm) hand over Vash's face. He stared down at his own right arm and envisioned himself forcing memories on Vanessa. He shuddered. "I'm so sorry you won't believe me."

Vanessa's pained expression melted his fears. "I'm sorry too. If I could somehow be sure that this is true, then maybe…" she didn't dare reveal any more.

She glanced at Vash, and read his face easily. "Is there…?"

Vash nodded. "You know, it'll be horrible…Real terror and pain. You'll see it how I did."

Her face contorted in confusion. "What are you saying?"

Vash met her eyes and gazed with an intensity she hadn't seen before.

"Well," Vanessa stated soberly, "Whatever it is, let's have it. I can handle it."

Vash sighed, then lifted his right hand towards her face. She jerked away. "Hey!"

Vash recoiled, startled.

"No…go ahead. I'm sorry," she softly whispered, leaning forward.

Again, he held up his hand, and placed it over her nose and eyes. He pressed his fingers to her skin and let his arm transform, just slightly. It took all his effort to prevent her injury.

_ Vanessa felt herself assuming his memories, flooding forth like a tidal wave. She saw everything, and held back screams as tears flowed from her eyes. When Vash finally took away his hand, she was sobbing aloud._

_ Vanessa attempted to muddle through this overwhelming information. Finally, she relaxed, and wiped her face with her sleeve. She went to the windows, and drew the curtains shut. Vash lit the table lamp knowingly as she again sat before him. She closed her eyes and pulled out the hairpins._

_ Vash stared at her for a moment, and in a sudden and awkward shift of emotion his eyes lit up._

He hugged her happily. "Oh, that's awesome!" he exclaimed. He held her away to look her in the eyes. "Really, you're safe now!"

Vanessa couldn't smile back. "You'd think so, but I'm never safe. You've got to let me return to my home. I live as far away from people as I can, and that's the only way I can avoid…" she stopped.

Vash again adopted a more solemn tone. "I understand. You've got scars all over, right? Well, I've been beat up and shot so many times…but it's still worth being able to really live!"

Vanessa held back tears. "No, you don't understand, at least you can look normal! I started out life with a huge hump on my back, and…I'll never be like them, and they hate me so much…One day I won't be able to escape in time." 

She told him her story as well. 

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/3plantchildren.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	8. CHAPTER TWO: PLANT CHILDREN (cont2)

CHAPTER TWO: PLANT CHILDREN (continued2)

About a century ago – she didn't know for certain - she had been born in a plant, but not removed until a year had passed, and her body had grown deformed. Her ears elongated, and her teeth were pointed, she explained. When the people of the town eventually extracted her, they assumed her an animal and not a rational creature. They kept her, weak as she was, in a hospital-like area of the plant building. She recalled the scientists examining and speaking over her as she lay there, studying their speech and mannerisms. She taught herself to read the medical manuals they left in her room, and learned all she could about the intricate workings of the body. Sometimes there were picture books of amazing things she could hardly imagine. But when the doctors spoke of a dissection, she had escaped and wandered until she could find a surgeon to cure her deformities. He had done some work, but then called forth a posse to drag her away. She said she was often discovered to be abnormal and attacked, although she did not elaborate on how many times and how severely this occurred.

"I've mainly kept in seclusion, but the loneliness gets to me and I go to towns here and there, taking whatever work I can get, until someone sees me for what I am," she explained enigmatically, tracing the grain of the wooden table with her fingertip. "One second they're be nice to me; the next they hate me. The terror in their eyes…they said I'm a demon…"

Vash's smile disappeared. "You hate them back?" he asked.

Vanessa shook her head. "I try to, but I can't…I've delivered their babies before, and I've seen the goodness they can emulate. And I understand why they would be so afraid of me. I keep forgiving them."

"Oh, good," Vash said, relieved. "You should tell Knives, maybe he'll listen to you."

Vanessa looked confused. "What? Tell him what, he won't take my word for it, he hates me."

Vash grinned. "No! He only hated you because he thought you were human! Now he knows, and you're very important to him. He even has things in mind for …" Vash trailed off. He didn't want to go into that. "I have to show him not to hate them, or I can't die honorably. I think your word will be more effective than mine."

"How funny this is, that the humans hate me for being this, and he hated me for being human. Damned if you do, damned if you don't…" Vanessa thought. "Vash, I've lived too long. My life so far has been so meaningless and awful…"

"Yeah, mine too. I mean, if I let it bring me down, I wouldn't be able to get out of bed in the morning," he agreed. "But please, help me? Me and Knives are dangerous when we use our angel arms, but you've been able to help mankind without harming, right?"

"Well…there's the nursing I've done…but…I've never…I can't make those 'angel arm' things, I don't think…" she replied, only half answering his question.

Vash asked her to lift her hair in the back, and he inspected her roots. Then he asked if she bleached her hair or not. 

She looked at him oddly, "Why on earth do you ask? Of course not!"

Vash smiled happily. "That means you've haven't used up your power, I mean your energy! See mine?" he asked, pointing at his own darker hairs at the base of his neck and behind his ears. "This is the 'hair-darkening effect.' Like the plants, when we use up our energy, our hair darkens, and when it's all black we die."

"We can die?" Vanessa asked, amazed and relieved.

"Yeah, and Knives and me, were already showing the signs," Vash replied. "Our energy was used up each time we preformed a huge demolition. But maybe you can teach us to use up the rest to help the people, to make up for our sins."

Vanessa was astonished. "I don't know how to do all that…I really don't know anything about this stuff, I don't even know…"

They heard Knives begin to yell again, and rolled their eyes.

Knives looked up from his book to see Vash and Vanessa. Vanessa's hair was down, and her ears were indeed like the plant angels'. He smiled deviously. "Sit! Sit!" he offered her, motioning to the stool. "My dear Vanessa!"

They sat and offered him his meal. As he ate, Knives continued to grin at her, making her deeply uncomfortable. "So," he asked clinically, "what other deformities were present?"

Vash grumbled that it was none of his damn business, but Vanessa replied regardless.

She cleared her throat. "Pointed teeth, and a lump on my back. And my eyes couldn't focus in sunlight."

"Were they congenital or acquired?"

Vanessa glanced around the room uneasily. "I was normal. They removed me from the bulb after a year, and in that time I developed the…"

"Okay, and," he interrupted, taking another forkful, "The lump was in mimic of the angels' structures? What did it consist of? What did it look like? Did you ever connect to the core?"

Vanessa frowned. "You're nosy." 

"I have every right to be nosy," he replied. "All these years Vash has been wasting away amongst the parasites, I've devoted my energies to the study of plant theory. So you see my interests."

She sighed. "The lump was just a lump, of skin and fat and bone and muscle, and I think it tried to form some other organs, but it was just a useless thing. And I was never like the angel, I was just deformed." She crossed her arms.

Knives cleared his throat and moved on to the subject that interested him most. "Well, you know, the humans have forgotten how to generate new plants," he began to explain to her. "And we don't know how to either. Even if we discovered the process for plant fabrication, we are too few in number to accomplish any real breakthrough. So…when the plants die from the exploitation, all that would remain would be ourselves and the humans, and they would perish from their own ignorance soon after. So, Vanessa, how do we solve this dilemma?" he asked.

"We have no right to kill the human race," Vash interjected. "We have to help them survive."

"And what of us?" Knives asked. "We are scarce creatures. We are endangered. Our race is exceptional and we have such a fragile chance to survive. We as a species are doomed, am I wrong?"

Vash's face reddened. "Knives don't get like that – don't say it…" he whispered anxiously.

Knives smiled and interrupted again. "Vanessa, we are the only existing plant children. God reportedly told Adam and Eve to 'go forth and multiply;' and as the Adam and Eve of this planet, so should we."

Vanessa felt herself blush. "You've got a filthy mind, don't you? What made you think I would go along with something so offensive?"

Knives began to speak again and Vanessa stopped him. "Don't say another word, you pervert."

"You can't just use everyone like this," Vash shouted, "And treat us like crap when you're done! We've got to stick together, but we need to respect each other, too!"

Knives lifted his hand to caress Vanessa's ear. "Don't you want to serve your race?"

Vanessa slapped away his hand and left, infuriated. 

Knives frowned at her solemnly, addressing Vash, "Stubborn and foolish as you, dear brother."

Vash held back his frustration, and followed Vanessa out. Deeply embarrassed by his brother's comments, Vash apologized to Vanessa extensively

  
  


NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/4plantchildren.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	9. CHAPTER TWO: PLANT CHILDREN (cont3)

CHAPTER TWO: PLANT CHILDREN (continued3)

"People have said some pretty repulsive things to me before," Vanessa commented, "It's strange, but never have I heard something that insulted me as much as that!" She continued to snip off Vash's bandages, and pulled them away. "I think I liked it better when I repulsed him."

Vash shivered as she applied the cold cream onto his wounds, consisting near entirely of scar tissue now. "He hasn't spent time with humans…but he thinks their emotions are disgusting. Everything about them is like a disease to him," he said, shaking his head. "He's gone so long, not letting himself accept humans."

He paused, then sniggered slightly. "He couldn't take interest in human girls, and now when he finally does meet a girl he's 'allowed' to like…" he stopped, uncomfortably. 

"…He acts like some immature little boy," Vanessa finished. "What a sensitive guy…"

"Yeah, Knives isn't so good at emotions other than anger." He grinned at Vanessa. "You and I've got emotions, and we're not human, but he says that's because we've spent 'too long amongst the humans.'"

Vanessa thought. "As a matter of fact, I'm quite sure I learned my emotions without human assistance. I mean, the scientists were cold to me, and still I felt happiness and sadness." She reached for fresh bandages.

Vash lifted his arms as she wound it about his chest. "But that's why you need to talk to him; I think you could really talk some sense into him! When I try, he just runs me in circles." Vash looked up to her to judge her expression. "But if he scares you too much, I understand. He's a lot to handle."

Vanessa hesitated, and smiled slightly. "A challenge like you two will make my life more…exciting," she offered. "I just need to keep my distance," she added, hinting at her bruised face, hand, and arm.

Vash gritted his teeth in discomfort. "Okay, but keep in mind that he won't hurt you now that you're important to him. No matter how pissed off he gets at me, he won't kill me. And he won't hurt you either."

"But he hired those people just to chase you down and torment you!" she countered.

He dropped his arms as Vanessa taped off the bandages, and helped her to clear off the table. "Yeah, but that's because he knew I'd survive it. Anyhow, he wouldn't cause you too much trauma, considering…" Turning his head away to hide a blush, he remarked, "Especially if he thinks your…purpose…is to…have kids…then your health will be his main concern."

Vanessa stopped. They stood in an awkward pause.

Vash looked to her. "Oh, you don't have to do…anything…like that…It's just…So long as he's concerned about that, he won't hurt you. That's all…no pressure...."

Vanessa felt her face redden as well. "Right," she muttered.

"I'm sorry!" Vash began.

But Vanessa interrupted him before he could launch into another round of apologies. "I know; it's okay. I understand."

Just then, the front door swung open. 

Vanessa instinctively cupped her ears in her hands, as casually as possible. 

Vash leaned down to whisper to her. "You should go ahead and tell them. They've heard a lot of strange stuff; they won't freak out."

"Vash?"

Vash stood to see Meryl and Millie giving him curious glances.

"How are you, Mr. Vash? Miss Vanessa?" Millie asked with a grin.

Vash smiled and rubbed the back of his head. "Oh, I'm fine," he replied casually.

Meryl crossed her arms. "Where's your shirt…?"

"Oops." Vash grabbed his shirt from the table and hastened to button it up. He glanced behind him to see that Vanessa's face was pale with worry.

"Miss Vanessa?" Millie asked, "What's the matter?"

Vanessa sat stiff, awkwardly holding her fingers tight over her ears as she forced a smile. 

Meryl cast an icy glare at Vash, and he recoiled in defense as he fastened the final button.

"Um, I'll go start dinner," Vanessa mumbled, turning quickly to the kitchen with her hands still to her head.

"Wait!" Vash interrupted. "Isn't there something you wanted to tell Millie and Meryl?"

Vanessa bit her lip. She looked plaintively to Vash, wanting to trust his instincts.

"Go ahead," he persuaded her. "They'll hear it from Knives eventually."

"What on earth are you two talking about?" Meryl demanded, on the peak of frustration.

"We'd better sit down," Vash commented. Slowly, all obeyed. "Well, it turns out that Vanessa's got a past that's not unlike…mine…" he began.

Meryl and Millie looked horrified.

Vanessa bit her lip and added, embarrassed, "He means that I'm not human." She slowly dropped her hands to her lap.

"Oh, God," Meryl sighed, her face sunken with despair.

Vanessa continued, looking to the floorboards. "Um…I was born in a plant. And I was in there for too long, so I…um…my body deformed, kind of."

"Yeah, so we should try to get used to the way Vanessa looks," Vash continued.

Millie studied Vanessa carefully. "I don't get it."

Vash looked to Vanessa, and she her hair behind her long ears, pronounced against her hair's light color.

Millie smiled. "Is that all?"

Vanessa looked up in surprise. "Well, no, some of my teeth aren't filed down yet…"

"And she had a huge thing on her back, and she's got scars all over like mine," Vash interrupted.

Meryl's face turned red with anger, and Vanessa's blushed in embarrassment.

"Vash…" Vanessa mumbled.

"Vash!" Meryl cried, horrified.

"No! No!" Vash attempted, catching his mistake. "I saw her arm, that's all! That's all! Oh, man…" he whined, wishing he'd kept quiet.

Vanessa pulled up her sleeves, offering her arms to the girls. Meryl wasn't interested, but Millie looked.

"You're lucky – Yours healed a lot nicer than Mr. Vash's did," Millie noted.

Vanessa smiled, and tugged her sleeves back down.

"Wait, how'd you get all these bruises?" Meryl asked, just noticing them in the dim light.

Vash grew squeamish again. "Knives…" he muttered. "But," he added in a clearer, louder voice, "Now that he knows she's not human, he won't hurt her anymore. Really…"

Meryl couldn't reply, flustered as she was.

Millie just smiled.

Vash twiddled his thumbs in discomfort, and Vanessa hid her face in her hands. Finally, she stood and went to make dinner.

"You guys," Vash commented, "Please don't tell anyone about her, okay?"

_ The following days were difficult._

_ Knives' reopened wound had to be treated and re-bandaged daily, and when Vanessa came to assist Vash, she rarely stayed long enough to chat. Between treating Knives and performing medical procedures for the villagers, Vanessa was kept far too busy to entertain Knives or help with housework. So Millie and Meryl, every day when they returned from their day jobs, had to wash, cook, and clean into the night. Vash tried to supply his brother with enough reading material to occupy his mind, and spent a lot of free time playing with children and teaching them to garden, watering the tiny plants carefully and working the soil obsessively._

_ Vanessa's bruised face drew concern from those she nursed. They urged from her the cause, and she claimed she'd tripped on the stairs at home. But the gossips whispered that she was lying, and spread the word that there was something fishy about the people Vanessa lived with…_

_ Vanessa went to the villagers as usual once day, inquiring upon who may need her medical services. But besides a few check-ups and minor cuts and bruises, no one was in great need. So Vanessa took the rest of the day off, returning to the house._

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/5plantchildren.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	10. CHAPTER TWO: PLANT CHILDREN (cont4)

CHAPTER TWO: PLANT CHILDREN (last part of this chapter)

"I apologize if my past comments seemed inattentive," Knives offered, looking somewhat genuine.

Vanessa didn't reply, continuing to examine the side wound. "This will scar, but any day now you'll no longer need the bandages."

"Now please may we continue our conversation about your birth? You know our story, so it's only fair…" Knives insisted.

Vanessa explained all she knew, attempting to paint a more pleasant picture in his mind than was true. In great detail, told of her memories of the plant angel and the extraction. The plant angel had suffered when she was left within the bulb, and stopped output. The humans grew frustrated, and the plant angel struggled to keep the inner bulb clean and Vanessa fed (with the strange plant material she could produce). She told of the strange taste and feel of the plant material, as if a mixture of vegetable and meat. The extraction, and the aftermath, was told carefully. As she explained her deformities, she gestured to herself, her eyes, her ears, her back; she even let them peer into her mouth after she explained about the filing and lack thereof. She left out many details, such as the reason for her running away and the outcome of her dealings with the plastic surgeon.

The entire time, Knives sat in wide-eyed interest. In the warm sunlight, he seemed almost pleasant. His usual demeanor was hidden, until Vash began to comment.

"So no one raised you," Vash reflected. "That's awful Vanessa, you really missed out…"

"I disagree," Knives snapped. "How lucky she is to be without a Rem to cling to," he sneered in disgust, referring to Vash's baby-like behavior on the SEEDS ship.

The blood vacated Vash's face as he was once more reminded of the cause of all his troubles – this bedridden villain who by desperate misfortune had been born his companion.

Vanessa became angry. "You weren't listening were you!?" she asked Knives. "Like I said, my plant mother couldn't do anything for me besides feed me, and the only guidance I could have to learn any task came from humans!" 

She turned to Vash, and added for comfort, "I wish I had had Rem as a mother, too."

He smiled cheerfully in thanks.

"ADOPTIVE mother," Knives corrected, arms crossed.

They sat in silence and discomfort.

"Vanessa," Knives broke in, "Your back…There may be clues of our true connection to the plants…Show me where the growth was."

"Hey, I'm the nurse here, not you," she argued, crossing her arms. "I'd really rather not."

"Show me," Knives commanded, growing angry. "You will not hide this from me."

Vanessa leaned back on her stool. "No!"

Knives narrowed his eyes. "If you refuse, I will destroy the town," he sneered, holding his left hand out towards the opposite wall.

Vash stood suddenly in alarm. "Knives, no!" he cried, reaching into his shirt for the gun.

But Vanessa touched his hand, a motion for him to stop. "It's okay, he can see."

She struggled to remain calm, and swiveled to face the wall. Swinging her hair over her shoulder, she eased her dress from her shoulders and let it fall in the back, holding the cloth firmly against her chest with both hands.

On her exposed back, they saw the myriad of scars. The grafted skin from the removal procedure left a deep grooved line in an awkward rectangle from her upper to lower back. Within the shape and outside it lay countless other scars, of various types and causes.

Vash was amazed – hers looked nearly as bad as his own.

But suddenly, Knives began to breathe heavily, his face twisting into an evil sneer. His pupils disappeared, and his arm began to form knives.

Vanessa pulled her dress back onto her shoulders, and turned to look in horror as his arm began to emit the light. She tumbled from her stool, and Vash followed.

"No!" Vash screamed, frantically thinking for a solution. He moved to protect Vanessa, but instead found her huddled on the floor, her face only inches from her open book.

Vash looked up again at Knives, whose transformation seemed difficult and sluggish due to his having been lethargic these weeks past. The knives grew longer and sickle-like as the formation swept up to Knives' face.

'You hid this from me,' Knives told Vash psychically. 'Why did you…'

Knives turned to Vash, and reached a blade towards his brother's head. Vash instinctively fell back, and used his arms to shield himself. The blade sliced easily into his right forearm, slowly moving towards the bone.

But Knives' face showed intense effort, and the knives seemed to waver, until they sunk back into his veins and the light faded.

Knives lay motionless against his pillow.

Vash sat up, sweating, his arm dangling at his side. "Oh my God, is he dead!?" he said, his voice choked with distress. Vash's forearm was cut to the bone, but his main concern was with his brother. He struggled to his knees and crawled towards the bed.

"He's…" Vanessa hoarsely whispered, "he's okay…asleep…" She was curled up on the floor, breathing strangely through gritted teeth. She was practically gasping for breath, sweat and tears rolling over her face. The skin of her face was bright red, but her hands were white and shaking as she gripped her book to her chest.

"I'm…sorry…" she whispered. "I should've known…he'd get…angry…but…" She kept her eyes shut tightly. "…Sorry…"

"It's a damn good thing we got home when we did!" Meryl exclaimed, her face red with fury. "You would've bled to death, you idiot!" She angrily bound up Vash's forearm. The bandage needed to be tight to seal off the bleeding, but her frustration made this task tighter than necessary.

"You two are lucky," Millie added, in a far more kind tone, "You're still alive."

Vash nodded in agreement, wincing.

"What are we going to do when he wakes up," Meryl asked soberly.

Vash looked at her sadly. He had no answer.

"He'll be asleep…for…a few days…" Vanessa whispered from where she lay on the couch. She had one eye cracked open, and was still breathing irregularly.

Meryl shuddered, thinking of how they had found her. She was cringing, baring her pointed teeth like a wild animal. That bitch, Meryl thought to herself, lying there like a frightened moron while Vash, passed out, bled like crazy only a few feet away! She should have at least had the sense to stop his bleeding!

Vanessa's eyes watered from the light, and she again shut them fiercely. "Vash, are you okay?"

Meryl clenched her fists at her sides. "No he's not okay! His arm was nearly cut off, you moron!"

Vanessa tucked her chin against her chest. "I…I'm sorry."

Vash grinned through his pain. "Don't worry about me," he replied.

"You need it stitched tight or it won't heal," Vanessa commented. "But I don't think I can do that now…"

Vash looked to her, realizing how she was affected. She was turned from the light as much as she could, her eyes watering and quivering as though they hurt miserably. She shivered with exhaustion.

"So you CAN do things - with the book...." he murmured.

"What are you talking about?" Millie asked, handing Vash a glass of water before taking a cold washrag to Vanessa's forehead.

Vash lifted the cup to his lips with his false arm, eyes narrowed in concentration.

Meryl leaned over and whispered in his ear. "You mean like your angel arm?"

He nodded. "I think so."

"This combination is far too dangerous," Meryl whispered furiously. "She can't stay here, riling him up like that!"

Vash cast her a surprised look.

"I know; I'll leave soon," Vanessa muttered from across the room, her sensitive ear showing through a mass of hair.

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/intoisolation1.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	11. CHAPTER THREE: INTO ISOLATION

CHAPTER THREE: INTO ISOLATION

"Drink it," she told him, as he stared at the green concoction. "As soon as you're groggy, I'll begin." It was night, and with the lamp light Vanessa's eyes could finally focus, although the tiny veins spread across them were horribly inflamed.

Vash held his nose and downed the gross stuff. "Oh, man, that's nasty," he murmured, lying back onto the couch.

Vanessa smiled slightly. "It's better than being fully conscious when you're having stitches." She brought out a needle and thin metal thread, and a stack of towels.

Vash pulled his arm onto his chest, flinching from the motion.

"You're taking this pretty well," Vanessa observed. "But I guess you've had worse, right?"

"Yeah, maybe," he replied, distant. "What should I tell Knives? He'll look for you…"

She dropped into the chair beside him, rubbing her eyes. "I don't know…Tell him…Tell him I'm dead. That the humans had nothing to do with any of this...That…I killed myself."

Vash shuddered. "Suicide…I wouldn't believe it; you think he would?"

"How good a liar are you?" she asked, and shook her head. "No, I don't know."

"At least…At least give me some advice," he asked. "I just can't connect with him. Tell me if it's best to…to…kill him."

He saw her smirk. "Not you," she replied surely.

"It's not safe," Vash commented, "Having Knives in a town. There's too many people here to hurt."

"My advice to you, Vash, is to take him as far from civilization as you can. Find some of that lost technology you love and fly him the hell away from it all."

"Easier said than done," Vash replied. He closed his eyes. "Yeah, I'm feeling woozy now…"

Vanessa carefully cut away his bandages and exposed the bloody laceration. His flesh was sliced so perfectly, it would be simple to stitch.

"Oh, man!" Vash whined in his daze. "I can't cut a break! I don't know how to deal with him, I don't know where to take him, what if I lead him into a big city on accident…What if he heals and goes off and…"

"Damn it!" Vanessa interrupted, squeezing the needle between her fingertips. "You talk like it's already lost! Figure it out like a mature adult!"

Vash turned his face away as it began to pucker into weeping.

No, he's hardly more than a child, she thought. He can't see things on the global scale that Knives considers…The questions of evolution and ethics are so simple and unquestionable to him. He didn't know what it was like to feel inhuman, because he hadn't meant to cause all that suffering.

Vanessa touched her book, checking it to be sure it was secured safely to her belt. Who do I apologize to? she wondered. Am I really sorry?

A tear fell from Vash's cheek, his face fully relaxed. 

She began to stitch, gritting her teeth with grief at each dive of the needle. 

Vash couldn't feel a thing, but she felt anguish from her work as though she was actually hurting him.

_ Vanessa went out to the market on a windy, hot day. Her hair was pinned up and her cloak was wound around her. She carried her backpack, empty from selling her goods, and filled it with sacks of dried fruit, nuts, and dried bread (zwieback toast). All her purchases were obviously those she would soon need as she would leave for the desert._

_ A man approached her and became furious._

"Hey, what's the matter, sir?" Vash asked pleasantly as he walked towards the angry man in the marketplace

Vanessa stepped towards Vash, hiding fear with calm. "He's mistaken me for someone else," she explained softly.

Vash put his hand up in an innocent gesture and smiled, but was cut off before he could speak.

"She killed my best friends!" the man screamed, his face red with rage. "That witch, she's evil, I'd recognize her anywhere!"

Several other villagers approached to hold the man back and speak calmly to him. "Not her, she's a God-send," they assured him.

"Damn it!" the man yelled, spitting mad but realizing his position, alone and unarmed. "I'll be back, you bitch! I'll kill you for what you did to them…Mick, and Boris and Jones…I'll kill you!" With that, he dashed to his jeep and sped out of town.

The villagers chalked the event up to sunstroke, and went about their day.

"Huh?" Vash wondered, confused yet relieved. He rushed after Vanessa as she walked away.

Vanessa readjusted the strap of her pack but didn't turn to face him. "Hi."

"What was that about?" he asked quietly.

Vanessa's voice became low and serious. "Back when he and his buddies were teens, they locked me in a filthy cellar for weeks…I haven't seen them since, but he said they became horribly sick and died right after I left, and…"

"He thinks you caused it?" Vash finished. "Well that's weird, how could you have? Boy, he seems convinced though…"

"Further reason for me to get the hell out of here," Vanessa muttered.

Vash became silent as he watched her eye a cart of survival supplies. He grabbed a bag of jerky and murmured, "You should try this. You'll need your protein."

Wordlessly, she bought the dried meat and stuffed it into her bag.

"It's so easy for you to up and go," Vash murmured as he hurried alongside her. "I wish I could be like that, then I wouldn't have such a hard time carting Knives off into the sunset."

Vanessa kept her voice at an excited whisper. "Easy? You think it's easy to have to abandon all the relationships I make? And when the people you have to leave are the ones you prayed existed your whole life…"

"Can I ask you something then? I really hate to put you on the spot like this, but…You don't have to be alone," Vash offered. "You can go with us." 

He paused for an answer, but she stood silent. "See, I'm really being selfish; I'm so tempted to take it the easy way out, but I just can't come up with another solution. And you stopped Knives from…you know… Well, nobody can do that!"

"Nobody else?" she asked, hushed.

Vash shook his head.

Vanessa grabbed his wrist and headed towards the main town toma stable. "We can't carry him; we'll need a toma-drawn cart."

"But tomas hate me! Can't we use a car?" Vash whined, stumbling behind her.

"No, it'd leave a smoke trail," Vanessa replied.

Suddenly, his face lit up,. "You're really going with us!?" he happily exclaimed. "But are you sure, I mean I can hardly ask you to deal with a guy like him…Things could get real ugly real quick…"

They arrived at the stable entrance and awaited the approaching toma keeper. "I've made my decision. We'll use my cave until he's able to travel on his own legs."

Vash pleasantly purchased two tomas and a crude cart with a wad of double dollars. They'd come back for them soon.

On the way back to the house, Vash leaned in to continue his inquiry. "So you live in a cave?"

Vanessa nodded. "If anything chaotic occurs, we'd be too far from civilization to cause any real problems. But in such a place it's not impossible that we'd end up destroying each other…"

Vash frowned. "Hey, now, that's not the way to think…"

Vanessa turned to him, abruptly. "It's nothing to dwell on, but it's realistic. And, worst case scenario, we'll have a humane alternative. We may, after all, only reach the conclusion that we have no place amongst them." She sped her pace and rushed into the house.

Vash felt himself at the edge of tears once more, but choked it away as he followed, assisting her as she assembled the purchases they would need to survive their trek across the sand.

NEXT SECTION:  http://members.aol.com/artchick12/intoisolation2.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	12. CHAPTER THREE: INTO ISOLATION (cont1)

CHAPTER THREE: INTO ISOLATION (continued1)

"Vash, I need to talk to you," Meryl demanded as she slammed the front door behind her. She glared at Vanessa, who was stitching up what appeared to be Vash's old, red coat "Alone."

Vash abandoned the canteens he was cleaning and followed her upstairs. She ushered him into the girls' bedroom and had him sit on a cot.

Meryl cleared her throat and crossed her arms accusatively. "So you sold the garden."

Vash looked up fearfully. "Uh huh."

"And you're up and leaving me," she added, her voice beginning to crack.

Vash motioned for her to sit on the opposite cot. "Oh, don't be upset, please?"

She sat and covered her face in her hands as the tears rolled down. "This…this ruins everything…I thought…we…could live here…and you could…grow the…the garden…and…and…" she choked out between sobs.

"Oh, Meryl, this isn't like you," Vash said softly, trying to comfort her. "You've got to remember that right now Knives is…"

"Fuck Knives!" she exclaimed angrily. "That son-of-a-bitch, and now you have to leave me again…"

Vash was taken aback by her sudden cursing. "Uh, I don't think I have a choice," he added softly, motioning towards his bandaged arm. "It's too dangerous to…"

"Oh, Vash," Meryl sobbed, grabbing his free hand in both hands, "I don't want you to…The way I've begun to…to feel about you…I …I…"

Vash frowned. "Don't say that; you don't need me for anything, I just cause you problems! No, I should come back someday, but I have to get Knives away now…"

"Can I go too?"

Vash shook his head. "I have to get him away from people, so…"

Meryl grew angry again and tossed his hand aside. "No humans allowed, huh? Just the three of you…You think he's going to learn anything from this? No!"

"Please," Vash asked softly, "Don't hate us for it, we just have to…For everyone's safety…You understand, don't you?"

Meryl collapsed onto the cot, sobbing and cussing.

Unable to calm her, Vash felt it best to leave her alone for a while. 

Downstairs, Millie made no move to go and comfort Meryl, but neither was she cheerful towards Vanessa or Vash. She seemed confused and accepting.

Watching Vash, Vanessa, and Millie load the cart, Meryl felt her blood drain from her once-reddened face. She felt faint, and steadied herself against the post.

Vanessa hurried to her, extending hands towards Meryl in concern. Meryl recoiled from her, hissing, "This is your fault."

Vanessa was taken aback. "Wha…"

"Vanessa, make sure we haven't forgotten all the canteens," Vash called, noticing Meryl's appearance to her.

Still concerned,Vanessa obeyed.

Millie wiped the sweat from her brow. "Mr. Vash, do you really have to leave so soon?"

Vash nodded. "They longer we wait, the riskier this is. He'll wake up in the next few days, and he'll be angry."

Millie nodded, frowning. "Be careful." She hesitated, and then threw her arms around him, squeezing so tight he could barely breathe. "Take good care of Miss Vanessa," she added, ignoring Meryl's growl.

Vash finally pried himself from Millie's emotional hug and retrieved Knives.

Millie and Meryl both visibly shuddered as he passed them, still horrified at the sight of Knives, although he was unconscious and apparently helpless.

Vanessa helped Vash settle his brother into the cart, laying him carefully across the front.

"Well, bye!" Vash said cheerfully, holding his hand up in parting. "We'll come back as soon as we can!"

Meryl felt herself begin to cry, and rushed inside.

"Go ahead," Millie said calmly, stopping Vash from following her. "Meryl's just upset. You all have a long trip ahead of you, right?"

"Yep," Vash replied, hiding his sadness. These two insurance girls had been his only friends for months, and had experienced that trauma alongside him. But still, he had to leave them in this unfortunate manner.

He mounted the cart as Vanessa took the reins. Millie waved goodbye as they disappeared into the desert.

"Where are they headed?" the villagers asked her, receiving no reply.

"You're being awfully cooperative," Vash commented, seated alongside his brother in the cart as Vanessa held the tomas reins, days into their trip. "What are you planning?"

Knives laughed, but flinched from the pain in his side. "Nothing. I'm happy, I think. To be leaving those damned humans. And to be headed towards our little paradise."

Vash looked confused. "Huh?"

"It's hardly a paradise," Vanessa murmured, facing out into the desert. "It's a dank little cave, that's all."

Knives smiled, closing his eyes happily. "Any place I go with her is paradise. And now we will have a more peaceful environment to raise our children," he added enigmatically.

Vash felt his stomach turn, but said nothing as his brother drifted off into sleep once more.

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/intoisolation3.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	13. CHAPTER THREE: INTO ISOLATION (cont2)

CHAPTER THREE: INTO ISOLATION (continued2)

Upon arriving at Vanessa's cave home, it was night, and all were weary from the journey. 

Vanessa led Vash into the cave's narrow entrance, through a passageway that wound strangely for a moment, until reaching the main chamber. This first main chamber of the cave was dark, and Vanessa asked Vash to stay put as she scurried deeper into the cave. Vash stood on the slippery stone, breathing in an unfamiliar cool, musty air as he heard her climb onto something and wipe at surfaces that sounded like glass. After a time, a soft light began to glow from the rear of the chamber. The moonlight was reflected from the mirrors she had cleaned, coming from a tiny crack in the roof of the cave.

Vash looked up to see a huge tarp fixed to the ceiling, forming a canopy onto which the constantly dripping water was caught. This water ran from the tarp edges and dripped around the foot-high wooden platform in the center of the chamber. Atop the platform, Vanessa lifted a tarp from the various supplies and containers piled onto it. Vash helped her set these things aside, and with everything piled away, she took out an armful of woven mats. "I'll lay these out; you start unloading the cart. We'll need to set up the beds before we can bring him in."

Vash nodded, and began to carry the various cloths and food bags into the cave. He unrolled foam mats and placed them at the edges of the platform. Meeting Vanessa at the cart, they carefully picked up Knives, still wrapped in his bed sheets.

Knives cursed them hoarsely as they carried him into the cave and lay him onto a mat.

"Do you need anything?" Vanessa asked, as she tucked him in for the night.

Knives ran a hand lazily through her hair. "I want to sleep. Will you be beside me as I do?"

Vanessa shivered and stood. "No, everyone sleeps separately here." She took the food bags deeper into the cave, where the pool of cool water and odd fish was. She stocked the food in a secure cabinet by a carving table as Vash squatted by the pond, amazed at the sight. "Fish…How deep is this?"

Vanessa shrugged. "Really deep. But the water's salty, so I filter it through this," she added, gesturing towards a large homemade water filtration device.

Vash followed Vanessa outside the cave. They hitched the tomas to a post and rolled the cart to the cave edge.

Vanessa rubbed her hands together. "Done. But I'm not really sleepy."

"Me neither."

"Oh, you should see the view from up there," Vanessa said, pointing up to the cave top. They climbed up to the flat platform of rock. Vash lay on the cool rock and stared up with his arms cushioning his head, exhausted. Vanessa lay away from him, and sighed. "Pretty, huh?"

"Yep."

Vanessa paused meditatively. "I feel like I have a family now. A really dysfunctional family."

Vash wanted to chuckle, but couldn't. "A real one."

"Hey Vash? How serious is Knives about…" Vanessa struggled for the right words. "How set is he in wanting to expand the family?"

"I don't know," Vash replied, frowning. "But don't worry, I won't let him…"

"Knives has told you what he knows about our species, right? So from what he knows, we can reproduce…" She tried to speak in a medical fashion out of modesty. "Have either of you tried to have children? With humans?"

Vash blushed. "Gosh…no. I love little kids, but a guy like me would make a terrible dad…having to leave all the time so people won't get suspicious of me, when I don't age and all…Have you…?"

"No, no," Vanessa answered quickly. "Who knows what a half-human half-plant would turn out like…"

"We don't even know if us plant children can have kids between us," Vash offered.

"I'm pretty sure we can. Human women have a way of knowing if they can have children; I know I can by the same method. But don't tell Knives, okay?" Vanessa requested, rising and holding her arms close about her. "I don't want him to think that raping me would make him a father."

"I…I won't…" Vash stammered, standing and moving towards her. "I'm sorry…" he tried, lifting his arms to encircle her in a comforting hug.

She pushed him away gently, and moved to climb back down. "We need to rest now."

The next day, Vanessa prepared meals of fish and rice, with dried fruit for dessert, and began to fill the washtub as the men finished their breakfast. This was a large, deep, metal basin, in which a grown adult could fit with enough water to bathe in. Vash helped her carry the bucketfuls of water from the cave pond, and once it was full they waited for the sun to heat the cool water, laying out a large woven mat and towels.

"It'd take all day if we refill it each time; we'll have to share the bathwater," Vanessa reasoned. "Does that sound nasty to you?"

Vash shook his head. "It's okay. You go first."

Vanessa smiled. "Thanks. Go sit inside with Knives; I'll get you when I'm done. In the meantime, could you gather all the dirty sheets and such in that big empty basket? I usually do the wash in the bathwater, too." She looked up to Vash questioningly. "That's not disgusting, is it?"

Vash laughed and shook his head again. "No, we're not that dirty, are we?" He left for the cave and brushed aside his brother's various disturbing comments as he worked.

Vanessa entered the cave later, hair wet, wearing a long, tan sundress as she waited for her usual purple dress to dry. 

"Now will you keep me company?" Knives asked her, grinning, as he sat on the platform.

She took the basket from Vash and walked with him outside the cave, calling behind her, "No, I've got work to do."

Vash helped her wash some of the cloths before she left to wring and hang them on a clothesline around the corner. When she was safely out of sight, Vash undressed and bathed. The water was still cool and salty, stinging his old wounds.

After he had finished and changed, Vanessa tossed the remaining cloths into the basin and washed these as well. Vash went into the cave to retrieve his brother. They hobbled along together, Knives dangling from Vash's shoulder much like a rag doll. 

"Use your damn legs," Vash muttered.

"They're full of bullet holes thanks to you," Knives replied tragically. He gazed disgustedly at the approaching washtub. "So primitive. And dirty water? You must be joking."

"Wanna take a cold bath instead?" Vash grumbled. He pulled the stinky clothing from his brother as Knives sat on the mat, unyielding. He again lifted his brother on his shoulder and dropped him into the water.

"AAAH!" Knives yelled through gritted teeth. "That…that hurts!" he added, as the salt stung his wounds.

"The salt makes wounds heal faster," Vanessa called from around the corner.

Knives relaxed and took on a more refined countenance. He washed himself, his brother sitting away from him. 

Vash was amazed at Knives' growing regard for Vanessa.

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/intoisolation4.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	14. CHAPTER THREE: INTO ISOLATION (cont3)

CHAPTER THREE: INTO ISOLATION (continued3)

"How could you let the humans do such things to you!?" Knives asked, horrified, towards both his brother and Vanessa.

"They didn't know any better," Vash answered. "They were misleading themselves."

"But you shot them back, did you not?"

Vash nodded. "But we can't kill them, we shouldn't. I never meant to kill anyone…"

"And yet you destroyed them by the thousands," Knives reminded with a smirk. "And justly so…"

Vash frowned, holding back tears and anger. "That wasn't my fault! You made me…Just look at Vanessa – her angel arm has never been used, and she managed to survive without killing the humans!"

Knives interrupted, looking to an obviously uncomfortable Vanessa. "Wouldn't you have used your angel arm, if you had known to? They covered you in scars, and you bore them…"

"No…I…no…" Vanessa stammered.

"Huh?" Vash asked, perplexed. "What did you do, then?"

"I've done…terrible things…" Vanessa said sadly, her face drawn into her knees. "There are ways to kill a person….through medical manipulation…I should never have…"

"That man in the marketplace," Vash reminded seriously. "He was telling the truth. You killed his friends."

Vanessa nodded slightly. "I couldn't get away from them…They were so cruel…"

"You see? Killing the spider to save the butterfly," Knives offered. "Perfect example. They earned their punishment."

"Knives, do you know what cancer is?" Vanessa asked in an emotional, shaking voice. "Sickle-cell anemia? Diseases I could manifest in them with such a simple formula, a tiny tweak of the cell…and they died so slowly, so painfully…"

Vash's own eyes filled with tears. "And you lied about it?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Vanessa mumbled, "I think I'm sorry, I was desperate…" 

Knives moved to her, holding her gently and cooing reassurance into her pointed ear. "Don't cry; don't apologize. You did what you had to do." 

Vanessa made no move to shove him away, perhaps because she had lost the will to protect herself in her deep grief. "No! No! I was wrong! My brain hurts from it…I was wrong…" She lifted her head and turned to Vash with a face twisted in anguish. "Please don't hate me…"

Vash frowned. "I can't hate you for it. We're all guilty."

"Shut up!" Knives yelled at his brother, clutching Vanessa closer into his chest, his words almost catching in a tightening throat. "Don't say that! Vanessa, you were right, you were right…" He held back his own tears; seeing Vanessa in such a state ripped his heart in an entirely foreign direction.

Vash grabbed Knives around the chest and pulled him from her. "Let her go," he asked in broken words as well, "Leave her alone, it's hers to deal with." It hurt him to say it, but he remembered his own realizations and the utter isolation that the horror had given him. Vanessa seemed in need of comfort, but as Knives was proving, this support was unfounded. "She was wrong. Let it sink in for her." He wrenched Knives away with great effort, and ushered a reluctant Knives from the cave top.

As he descended, he glanced at Vanessa.

     She was laying on her side, curled up in fetal style. She squinted through her tears, voice broken with sobs. "Vash…Vash…" she stammered plaintively.

     But with all his will, he turned from her and left her to know the wrongs she had committed. It would be too easy for her to see comfort as forgiveness at this state, and such an error could lead to her not fully taking the responsibility. The pain of grief was heartbreaking, but necessary.

As he dropped into the sand, he found Knives, fist raised, glaring angrily. "You've become heartless to your race. You only seem to give compassion to the humans these days, you fool…"

Vash's face betrayed his desolation. "Whatever you want to think, Knives. Go ahead; hit me, if you think that'll fix everything. I doubt it, though."

Knives growled and stamped off into the depths of the cave, muttering about loyalty and superiority of the race.

Vash wiped the sweat from his brow and leaned against the cool rock. He closed his eyes in contemplation as he listened to the muffled sobs above.

Night came, and Vanessa still had not joined them in the cave. Vash donned a warm coat and carried a bundle of thick blankets to the cave top.

There he found her, still curled into a tight ball, shivering. The weeping had subsided and Vash took her for sleeping. He knelt behind her and draped the blankets about her, patting them close around her. 

As he smoothed the cover around her chin, she suddenly grabbed hold of his hand in both of hers, icy cold as they were. She gripped him fiercely, tucking her face behind his palm.

"I'm sorry, I am," she muttered desperately.

"That's good. It's better than denying it."

They remained in a long pause, until Vash felt hot tears fall onto the hand she held. He leaned forward to see her sullen expression. 

"They were right; I'm a demon…I am repulsive, a horrendous creature," she hissed, releasing his hand and sitting up, still balled up tightly. "You were right; I don't deserve your kindness," she stated, holding her hand over her face. She made no move to catch the blankets as they fell from her.

Vash frowned. Picking up the blankets from around her, he encircled her with them and his arms. He held his hand over hers, trying to warm the icy fingers. Her chin and nose were so cold, too… "I never said that, I just wanted to let you think things through alone," he replied, dropping himself to lay behind her, wrapping his arm about her for warmth.

"You know there were other options," Vash murmured softly as he clasped her. "You didn't have to kill them, you just didn't try hard enough to escape them."

"I was weak," she whispered hoarsely. "How can I atone for this?"

"You should do all the good you can for the humans. Of course, you're going to lose the hermit lifestyle. Cure their diseases, invent plant theories – something you can apply your talents to. I'm no good at the scholarly stuff, so I try to keep peace and protect people; that's my penance."

Vanessa cringed and gritted her teeth in frustration. "You're above me, though…I did this on purpose, you didn't mean to…"

"You can't compare yourself to me, or anyone, really," Vash offered. "You make your own decisions, walk your own path."

A strong shiver coursed through her. "Yes, like she told you…"

"You're going to make yourself sick, it's so cold out tonight," Vash said in a more cheery tone. "Let's get inside, okay?"

Vanessa continued in an awed tone. "Do you think there could be an Eden for our kind? Could we deserve to live in peace?"

"I think so. We just have to try harder than most," he replied, lifting her in his arms and bringing her slowly to her feet. "We were born with a great capacity to inflict agony and also to benefit everyone. If we were meant to just destroy, we wouldn't be so intelligent or loving, you know?"

Vanessa reached up and tousled his hair. "How'd you get so clever all the sudden?"

Vash chuckled as he gradually led her down to the sand and into the somber cave. "Hey, I've always been perceptive! Nobody ever seems to notice, though…" he murmured softly, laying her on her mat. He ignored Knives' snicker, and retired to his own bed with a pained smile.

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/disharmony1.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	15. CHAPTER FOUR: DISHARMONY

CHAPTER FOUR: DISHARMONY

_ Days passed, and Vanessa spoke less and less, hoping for Vash to articulate the words to Knives that she herself felt unfit to say. Unable to make progress, Vash attempted to use examples from his past to illustrate his pacifist viewpoint._

"They must be punished for their sins," Knives stated in a god-like manner.

"What about our sins? Or do you consider us sinless?" Vanessa asked.

"I do. Anything we've done to the humans was justified."

Vash interjected. "And all the things you did to Vanessa? And to me?"

Knives thought. "I think we're all even, between us…"

"Maybe, but not forgiven. A sin is a sin, no matter how it's repaid," Vanessa argued.

"And as you've said, we must do penance for sins, right? So the humans must do penance by dying," Knives reasoned.

"What proof do you have that we have any right to kill the humans, penance or no?" Vanessa said, narrowing her eyes accusatively.

"They have committed the worst of atrocities and crimes not only unto our race but to their own! Any species so primitive and destructive cannot be allowed to…" Knives stated matter-of-factly.

"But you're making vast generalizations! I bet that between the three of us, we've killed more people than any three humans have in history!" Vanessa stated angrily, tears rolling from her eyes although her voice did not waver. "If our race was defined like that, then we have no more a right to exist than they do! Just look at the horrible things we did, and so selfishly…we're the scum of this Earth!" 

Knives frowned. "Now that's unfair! Our actions were just…"

"Did you enjoy it, when you killed?" she asked in a deep, almost sensual voice "Did it feel good? It did, didn't it? 'Makes you want to do it just to feel like that – the euphoria…"

"Uh, huh," Knives replied, smirking.

"Ecstasy from killing…" Vanessa reflected, her tone rising with excitement. "You think we're exterminators? Executioners aren't supposed to enjoy their job, no matter how wicked the criminal! When we kill them, it's a deep kind of evil! The thrill we get from it is far more immoral than another sort of depraved behavior would be!"

Knives paused, his mind spinning. He could think of no reply. His face suddenly grew hot and red, with an anger that morphed nauseatingly into shame.

"Oh…Oh my God…" Vanessa murmured, hands over her face. "We…How could we…I think I'm going to be sick…" She suddenly dashed down into the sand and around to a more secluded side of the cave.

_ Knives and Vash sat, arguing, at the cave top, their voices rising to a fever pitch._

"So you're telling me that that man was trying to avenge his daughter's death," Knives yelled in utter disbelief, "And you stopped him and let him beat the shit out of you?" He scoffed, disgusted at his dear brother. "What an imbecile you are!"

"Oh, yeah, you would've just killed them both, that'd solve the problem," Vash replied in a loud whining tone. 

He noticed Vanessa climbing the rocks, carrying a tray of the prepared raw fish she called 'sushi.' She placed it between the brothers and also sat nearby, listening as they began to eat.

"You're such a hypocrite, Vash," Knives continued. "And no matter how strong your peacekeeping mentality, those you protect usually end up killed anyway!" He turned to Vanessa. "You know, the problem with Vash is that in his pacifism he's disgustingly sloppy…bringing on suicides and Armageddon...ironic. You see, I've perfected my angel arm control, but Vash – at the drop of a hat, his goes berserk and starts destroying everything!"

Vanessa looked down, unresponsive.

"I don't intend on using that ever again," Vash growled. "It's not as volatile as it was…"

Knives chuckled. "Still…so many had to die because of you. You have killed without prejudice, dear brother!"

Vash took a lump of cold fish and popped it into his mouth, speaking solemnly as he chewed, "Well I never worked for that! I know that no one has the right to decide…"

"-Who should live and who should die," Knives finished for him. "You've got to be kidding me; still quoting Rem as though quoting the Bible." He grabbed and swallowed a bit of the food, chewing with his mouth closed.

Vash stuck out his lower lip. "Well, she put it better than I can!"

Knives roared in hatred and frustration. "That accursed woman! See how she warped your obliging little mind!?"

"Why do you hate her so?" Vanessa asked, amazed. "I mean, all this time you say such harsh things, but this woman, she raised you as her own! You owe her memory some respect, don't you think? She was your adoptive mother!"

Knives frowned, and spoke with teeth gritted tightly. "Some mother! The bitch let them kill Tessla – if we had been the first born, she would have watched them kill us as well."

"Yes, Rem sinned against Tessla, but her relationship to the both of you was her penance for that sin, don't you think?" She grew silent in contemplation. "Now, you two are my penance for my sins…" she murmured, standing and leaving them calmly.

Vash was dealt a blow as if her words were a slap in the face. Truly, dealing with Knives would be a punishment on anyone, but Vash had never realized that, to Vanessa, he too was a danger and burden. It seemed clear to him suddenly that she saw this experience as her responsibility, and that although she feared them she felt duty-bound to take on the challenge.

Glancing up to see if they had noticed his shock, Vash noticed Knives glaring at him with a smirk. In Vash's head, he heard his brother's psychic voice. 

'See? You are the nightmare I am.'

Vash detected in his comment a hint of sadness.

'This is not going according to plan,' Knives thought to himself angrily as he sat alone in the cave. 'Time is of the essence; still she shows no signs of willingness to reproduce with me. Actions must be taken.' 

Knives was focused on one goal in the past – to kill humanity in order to end the degradation of the plant race. However, the entrance of the female plant, Vanessa, into his life had added a second major goal – to perpetuate the dwindling race. All along he had fought to protect his brethren and help his brother, Vash to see the way. He had perhaps assumed that once humanity was gone, the concluding Eden of plants would be timeless and immortal. But he and Vash could die, as was discovered, and plants could die as well. In the process of extinguishing the human race, the plant race may die off as well. This is why a greater supply of plants would aid in the effort. Knives and his twin possessed great, destructive power, and more plant children like them meant greater destructive force. 

If he could only use Vanessa to produce more plant children, the resulting offspring could be trained to use their angel arm abilities to end humanity and yet not use enough of their energy to die. Thus, Eden would be far more secure.

'But it would be too risky to endanger her health,' he thought. 'Any pregnancies would have to be consensual or her instability may harm the offspring, I would imagine. And she finds me repulsive, it seems. And then there's Vash…making her feel nothing but guilt, and never wavering in his idiotic philosophy…'

He pounded the platform with his fist angrily. "Why must he be in my way!?"

Knives sat, stewing, until Vash returned from tending to the tomas.

Vash removed a muddied shirt and dug in a basket for a fresh one. As he pulled one from it, his old, red coat fell onto the cave floor. Vash paused, and as he stared down, tears began to form. 

"What is it?" Knives asked cruelly. "Something in your eye?" He snickered.

"It reminds me," Vash answered sadly. "All the stuff I went through. The fighting, the death, the Gung-Ho Guns, the blood…" he sniffed, rubbed his eyes roughly with his forearm, and tossed the coat back into the basket. "And how you were behind most of it…"

Knives frowned. "You want me to stop hurting you, huh?"

Vash turned to face him, nodding slowly as he narrowed his eyes in concentration.

"I'd like to compromise," Knives stated in a businessman's manner. "Let me free our brethren and I will set aside an area for you and Vanessa. She can bear your children, and you can have a pleasant life. I'll leave you alone forever." He crossed his arms. "What do you say?"

Vash's face reddened with anger and embarrassment, so he turned from his brother to face the wall. "C'mon, that's a really terrible idea! Listen to yourself, bartering her off as if she's yours to begin with…And I'd never be able to ignore the human suffering you'd be causing. Seriously, Knives…"

Vash fell hard to the ground, unconscious. Knives stood over him with a thick book. 

"I'll deal with you later. I just thought of a far better plan."

He checked his brother's vitals before dragging his body across the cave floor.

"She has to see."

NEXT SECTION:  http://members.aol.com/artchick12/disharmony2.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	16. CHAPTER FOUR: DISHARMONY (cont1)

CHAPTER FOUR: DISHARMONY (continued1)

"Where's Vash?" Vanessa asked apprehensively as she entered the cave to find Knives reading alone. She wore her tan sundress again, as the purple one was once again hung out to dry.

Knives looked up, smiling. "Out using the 'facilities.'"

"Huh? Oh." She walked around him, dropping her basketful of cleaned clothes to fold.

Knives closed his book and stood. "I need to tell you something. It's quite important."

"What is it, then?" Vanessa asked, rather uninterested through her worry.

Knives walked towards her. "Follow me, we need to leave the cave first."

Vanessa pulled away. "No way I'm going into the desert with you."

"I'm not going to 'take you' by force, Vanessa," Knives replied, frowning. "I care for you too much to do that."

Vanessa stared into his honest eyes in amazement. "What did you say?"

"Please, come with me. I won't violate you like that, I swear upon my life."

Vanessa hesitated, but nodded. Perhaps Knives is on the edge of a real breakthrough, she thought.

Knives took her gently by the hand and led her not more than 1,000 yards from the cave mouth. They faced into the desert, Vanessa at Knives' left.

"I want to show you much I care for you, in the purest way I know," he murmured sweetly, letting her hand fall from his own as he turned to smile.

Vanessa hid her confusion and fear as she met his eyes. The clarity of his eyes was amazing – a deep steel blue that seemed infinite and unpolluted. Never had she seen a face so serene as now.

Keeping his gaze fixed upon hers, he lifted his left hand behind her and rested it gently upon her back. "You deserve to feel the most intense sort of happiness. I want to teach it to you," he offered happily, as he summoned her 'angel arm.'

Vanessa felt a sudden, throbbing pain in the center of her back. She cried out, falling to her knees.

Knives knelt alongside her calmly, keeping his hand at her back. "I'm sorry; it hurts the first time. I couldn't know for sure from what specific location on your body the angel materialization would form, but your story of the lump you had here seemed evidence enough. Mine comes from this left hand, and Vash's from his right shoulder…Yours is at your back," he whispered softly. "But since you had it removed, this is going to be tricky. Bear with me, I'll talk you through it." He held her steady with his right hand just below her neck.

Vanessa wailed from the pain. Her spine felt as though lit on fire, her arms dangling useless beside her. She glanced at Knives from the corner of her eye, barely able to see him through her tears. "Please…No…" she stammered, gasping for breath.

Knives was smiling. "The intensity is enormous for you because you've lived all these years saving up the anger and hate. If you had let yourself retaliate as you were meant to, this wouldn't be so painful. But better late than never. Now, don't fight it. Remember how they beat you, demeaned you…Did they rape you? How often did they try?"

Vanessa felt herself assume the memories he summoned, and the skin around the top of her surgical scar tore open. Something ripped outward from her body, but she couldn't know what. The skin tore upward at two main diagonals, to her shoulders, and wrapped around nearly to the top of her sternum (breastbone). Various malformed limbs, eyes, mouths, and wings writhed as they emerged from the rifts, rising around her, entangling in her hair. Blood poured from the fresh rifts and began to puddle red beneath her.

Knives ignored her pain, concentrating completely on the goal – to show Vanessa the intensity of her hidden power. Once she understood the pure pleasure of destruction, surely she would thank him and want to have his children. With Vanessa secured as a mate, Knives could dispose of Vash. There would be no need for the troublemaker, considering the numerous children Knives could create with Vanessa. 'Problem solved,' Knives thought triumphantly as he held his reproductive candidate steady.

Vanessa continued to gasp in pain as the formations grew and formed long feathers, rising before her. She knew that far in this direction lay the village of New Dakota. The formation began to elongate into two horn-like spirals, pointing inward at the ends at a large glowing orb. It was from this orb that the destructive force would emit, Vanessa guessed. She felt herself begin to lose focus as she lost blood.

Knives ducked beside her, continuing to hold her steady. "Now release it, Vanessa!" he yelled to her over the hum of her power. But seeing that she was holding back, he let his hand form slightly to force her further. "Don't do this, it'll only hurt! You've got to liberate yourself of the anger – it'll feel so wonderful, you'll see!"

Vanessa began to scream, trying to form Vash's name but ultimately unable. Straining from the intensity, she felt herself losing consciousness. 

"No!" Knives screamed as she fainted away, and watched the angel formation disappear into her flesh, sealing the skin as though nothing had occurred.

Vash awakened with a start, banging his head hard against the wooden planks. He crawled from beneath the platform in the cave, with another throbbing pain in the back of his head.

Once more hearing the screams, Vash climbed to his feet and ran from the cave in the direction of the two kneeling figures. 'No!' he thought, scolding himself bitterly, 'how could I let him alone with her!?'

Approaching, he saw sand falling from the air, settling around Knives and Vanessa. Vanessa was unconscious, fallen sideways across Knives' lap. Vash saw the blood, over Knives' hands and Vanessa's back and chest. His heart leapt from his chest. "You murderer!!" he screamed in fury, "How could you!? To her!? Oh, my God…" He knelt to grab Vanessa from him, calming down just enough to realize that she was breathing. And the blood had no obvious source, since Vanessa seemed completely without open wounds.

"What did you do!?" Vash screamed feverishly, slapping away his brother's bloodied hands when he tried to reach out for her.

"I…I showed her…" he stammered. "She couldn't…the formation was beautiful," Knives whispered reverently.

Vash's throat tightened. "She never used it before…why did you have to do that…to her…"

Knives stared off silently, seemingly oblivious to the blood his hands were smearing on his legs.

"She's going to die!" Vash roared angrily, hoisting Vanessa into his arms and rushing to the cave. He took the torn, bloody remainder of her dress, and washed the blood from her face, neck, chest, back, and arms. Dressing her in one of his large shirts, he settled her into her bed, and knelt beside her. In the silence of the cave he concentrated on her faint breath and pulse. Her skin was so pale, and she shivered occasionally, but never did her pulse weaken further.

Hours passed, and Vash realized that his brother had never returned. He began to feel the guilt of his words, and walked to Knives, sitting still in the distance.

"Knives, she's not dead."

Knives made no response. He sat in a zombie-like state.

Vash sat next to him and shook him to attention. "She's not going to die, but she can't get better unless you help me. I can't care for her on my own," he lied.

Knives stood and stumbled back to the cave, walking as though he was paying no attention to balance.

  
  


NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/disharmony3.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	17. CHAPTER FOUR: DISHARMONY (cont2)

CHAPTER FOUR: DISHARMONY (continued2)

Vanessa awoke groggy, feeling immediately dizzy at the attempts she made to lift her head and arms. As her memory flooded forth, her breath quickened and became louder and more frantic, until Vash rushed to her side. 

He lay a cold cloth across her forehead. "Calm down! It's okay!" he assured. "You didn't fire it! Everyone's safe!"

She began to relax, but stared at him with desperation. "It…it hurt so bad…"

Vash frowned. "I know. I'm sorry he…I'm sorry. He's sorry too, believe it or not."

"How long have I…"

"A few days," he replied. "Don't you remember? We woke you up several times. To give you something to drink."

"Yeah," she responded faintly. "I think I do…Sugar water…and behind me, propping me up…That…he…you let him?!?"

Vash took her hand in his and spoke seriously. "You know where he is right now? Out doing the laundry. He's not the same."

Vanessa shot him a weird glance. 

Vash cleared his throat and explained of how Knives had so carefully aided him in caring for her, and had confided his feelings aloud to him. "It's like back on the ship…He's kind of acting like my brother again, instead of my enemy. He's seen the wrong of his ways all drawn together in what he did to you. But he's afraid you're going to hate him now…"

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she stared into the ceiling.

"Some days, he stayed awake all night," Vash continued, his soft voice cracking slightly. "You were so cold that he'd hold you, taking your pulse all the time…" He ignored the tears rolling down his cheeks. "If he'd known how, he would've given you a transfusion of his own blood; he couldn't find that in your books…"

"So…is he cured?" she asked hopefully.

Vash paused. "I can't say. He hasn't talked about humans at all, not like usually. But I've seen emotions he hasn't used since we were kids…he's not selfish and mean and angry anymore. It's so strange. And it's hard for him, but he's handling the guilt awfully well."

"You don't feel sorry for him, do you?" Vanessa asked soberly.

"Well…I can't help it," Vash replied sadly.

"Whatever happened to 'letting people realize their guilt alone?'" she challenged angrily. 

"But I am!" he maintained. "Don't think I…"

"Leave me alone!" Vanessa interrupted.

Knives made his entrance, hesitating at the sound of Vanessa's voice, then rushing to her. "You're okay!" he whispered in a reserved tone, quite unlike himself. He dropped his basket to the cave floor and knelt beside her, lip puckered in relief. He folded his hands uncomfortably onto his knees and waited for her response.

Vanessa attempted to regain her composure, but finally fell back into tears. She sobbed heavily, turning away from him, but wholly unable to hide her anguish.

"C'mon," Vash muttered, pulling his brother onto his feet. He ushered him towards the cave mouth. "Give her a second, okay?"

"What did I do?" Knives asked in surprise.

Once outside, they sat in the sand on the other side of the rock formation.

"She's having a hard time with it," Vash explained. "It was painful, you know."

"But you told her I'm sorry, right?" Knives countered, flustered.

Vash nodded. "That's not gonna fix it, Knives. If you want her to like you, you're gonna have to build up trust. That's not going to be easy; you've made quite a reputation."

Knives pounded his fist into the sand but retained his calm tone. "I said I was sorry. Now what, do I have to get all weepy like you in order to get my point across? What does she want from me?"

Vash sighed. "You're going about this all wrong! You can't just pretend you don't want to kill everybody just to make her happy."

"You judge me so harshly," Knives replied, resting his head back against the warm stone. "You don't understand me."

Vash folded his legs beneath him and faced his brother. "So, what, do you love the human race now? Or will you say you do, and kill them off the second we let our guards down?"

"I don't care about them anymore." Knives chuckled. "It's funny…I guess I found something more important."

"There's nothing funny about it!" Vash hissed. "Why do you have to take everything so lightly!? We can't forget how you've treated us!" He ran his hands roughly through his spiky hair. "If you care about us, you have to ask for forgiveness. From everybody. And you have to mean it."

Knives rested his hand on Vash's shoulder and smiled. "Forgive me Vash."

Vash rolled his eyes. "For what, Knives? What did you do to me that you know was wrong? Tell me why it's wrong and convince me that you're sincere!"

Knives' hand fell from Vash's shoulder and both became quiet, listening to the rustle of the sand and wind as their minds roared within.

Staring with vision fuzzy from drying tears, Vanessa sat limp on her disheveled bedclothes. The dead tracks of the tears felt cold and tight, an invisible map of anxiety and misery. Time began to return to her mind, the slight chill in the air the only hint of nightfall. Drawing the sheets from her naked legs, her scarred flesh brought memories for which tears couldn't come anymore. Each told a tale of a hateful encounter. 

At her feet lay the basket of newly cleaned clothing. Atop the pile was her purple dress, folded painstakingly. Touching the cloth, she envisioned the warmth of his fingers on the material, the last person to hold it. 

She shut her eyes tight and drew her shivering limbs together. Burned into her eyelids were his innocent blue eyes. He was so full of child-like wonder and yet so suppressed.

And as the one person with the greatest power over his mind to date, she realized her responsibility with dread.

Vash peeked around the corner of the stone corridor. He noticed that Vanessa had dressed in her usual attire and was bent over a tray of fish, working slowly with her knife to prepare a meal.

He stepped into the room, hands in his pockets. "Feeling better?" he asked softly.

She nodded, pausing before lifting her head and smiling awkwardly. Never did her eyes meet his.

Grabbing two thick coats, he left the cave and returned moments later. "It's been a while; 'getting cold out there," he muttered. Keeping a gentle grin, he pulled his coat closer about him to hide his shivers.

Without a reply, Vanessa continued her calculated carving, the blade diving delicately into the fish's flesh with a surgical accuracy. She stopped for a moment, resting her left hand palm side up on the chopping block, beside the filet. The pale blue veins of her wrist pulsated in her mind. The knife in her other hand began to quiver as her grip tightened.

"The…the sunset was beautiful tonight," Vash said loudly. "You should watch it with me tomorrow. Okay?" His posture gained a tension appropriate for a spontaneous launch into action. Vash was prepared to dive at that knife, should the need arise. 

But in this apprehensive silence, her grip loosened and the blade fell. It stuck into the wood and remained at a strange angle. 

Vanessa shook her head slightly and lifted her gaze to him. Eyes shut tight, she smiled widely. Her cheeks twitched and her skin seemed a sick, pale hue. "Hungry?" she asked in a thick, sugary tone.

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/disharmony4.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	18. CHAPTER FOUR: DISHARMONY (cont3)

CHAPTER FOUR: DISHARMONY (continued3)

"Vanessa…Vash, what are you thinking!" Knives exclaimed, "Bringing her out here…It's far too cold!"

Vash climbed to the cave top with Vanessa in his arms. She was bundled in her cloak and a blanket, and carried a tray of sushi. Vash lowered her to the cold stone.

"It's too cold for you, too," Vanessa stated, holding the fish out to Knives.

"She made me carry her up here," he explained, rubbing the back of his head nervously.

Knives took the tray, but gazed in concern to Vanessa. "Really, you shouldn't endanger your recovery by…"

"Then come back into the cave. You can't act like this," Vanessa interrupted, her face hidden within her hood.

Vash began to sit next to her, but she held up her hand.

"Go inside," she said softly.

"But…" He threw a quick look at Knives and gritted his teeth.

Vanessa dropped her hand into the folds of her cloak. "I'll be fine. Won't I, Knives?"

Knives stared at her, then looked to his brother in surprise. "Yes, you're safe with me," he replied softly.

Trying to act calm, Vash turned and left them alone. He sat along the rock wall below, unable to enter the cave while his brother was out. Vash remained within earshot, should action be needed.

"Tell me why," Vanessa murmured after he had departed.

"Why…why I did it?" Knives guessed. "I'm sorry, Vanessa. Really I am. Please forgive me, it…it's tearing me up that you…"

"Tell me why," she repeated. "Otherwise, there's no point in saying I forgive you."

Knives cleared his throat. "Well, I thought if you knew what it felt like, to fire it, then you'd realize that we're…superior…Because it just makes you see that we were meant to…Nevermind."

"No, not nevermind," Vanessa retorted. "Think about it – you've forced both Vash and myself to use our power, but still you're the only one of us that thinks that way. Don't you find that odd?"

"It gives me doubts," Knives admitted. "But Vash is just being a baby about things, and you…you don't really know what it's like since you can't…"

"I forgive you for causing me the pain. But that's all you're sorry for. Isn't it?"

Knives flinched. 

"Your plans are unchanged? But surely you know Vash and I couldn't allow that?" she asked, turning to him and drawing her hood back. Her sharpened ears were silhouetted in the moonlight of five satellites, her eyes the deep shade of ocean water he'd never seen. "The only way you'll get your Eden is over our dead bodies."

"Well, I don't want to kill you," Knives interjected. "I'm thinking of the greater good – the survival of an entire species…And as much as I wish I could please you, my duty to the race…It would, um, break my heart, so to speak…to have to…" He scooted closer to her, and abruptly laid his hands on her shoulders to face her. 

In response to his touch, a strong shudder ran through her body, which he mistook for a shiver from the cold night air.

"I promise, no harm will ever come to you, or Vash, if you two would just…"

"There's no way we'd do that. No possibility," she interrupted.

Knives started to speak, but instead let a discouraged, empty breath. Staring into her eyes, he was again taken by her in the way he both despised and took pleasure in. His throat tightened sorely. "Why won't you…just…" A hot tear fell from his eye, tickling his cheek mockingly. He rubbed his face against his shoulder awkwardly.

Vanessa frowned. Surprised to feel the same choking in her own throat, she slowly pulled her arms from the folds of her cloak and laid them limp against the backs of his shoulders. "Talk to me, okay? Tell me what you think about. Let's find an understanding," she murmured, almost frightened by him even in his moment of weakness.

Knives wrapped his arms behind her and gripped her fiercely.

Again, she shuddered, but he ignored both this and the flaccidity of her grasp.

"Why doesn't Vash affect you like this?" she asked him, nauseated by the answer she felt she knew.

Knives sniffed. "Because he's…Vash. When he disagrees with me, he talks like the child he's always been. But you…I don't know. He's just my brother. You're more." He pulled back and looked into her eyes again. "Does that make sense to you? It seems so illogical to me…"

Vanessa hid a sigh of relief as the warmth of his body distanced itself from her. "Your heart is taking precedence over your mind. It's not supposed to be logical."

"My heart?" Knives repeated, and sniggered softly. "That's so impractical. Huh." He smiled.

Vanessa maintained her gaze upon him, resisting the quiver in her eyes. Still, the muscles of her face twitched neurotically at moments.

"I'm sorry; you're cold. Let's get inside," Knives offered in a congenial tone. "You can't walk, right? I'll carry you. Hold this," he said, holding the sushi tray out to her and lifting her in his arms. Below, he greeted Vash with a gentle grin, which sent chills down Vash's spine.

Vanessa lowered his eyes so as not to face Vash. She had to maintain her composure, and was already far too close to losing it.

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/smiles1.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	19. CHAPTER FIVE: COUNTERFIET SMILES

CHAPTER FIVE: COUNTERFIET SMILES

Vash and Knives awoke to the soft, wafting sound of Vanessa singing, deeper in the cave. (Sarah McLachlan's "Angel")

Spend all your time waiting

for that second chance

for a break that would make it okay

there's always one reason

to feel not good enough

and it's hard at the end of the day

I need some distraction

oh beautiful release

memory seeps from my veins

let me be empty

and weightless and maybe

I'll find some peace tonight

in the arms of an angel

fly away from here

from this dark cold hotel room

and the endlessness that you fear

you are pulled from the wreckage

of your silent reverie

you're in the arms of the angel

may you find some comfort there

so tired of the straight line

and everywhere you turn

there's vultures and thieves at your back

and the storm keeps on twisting

you keep on building the lie

that you make up for all that you lack

it don't make no difference

escaping one last time

it's easier to believe in this sweet madness oh

this glorious sadness that brings me to my knees

in the arms of an angel

fly away from here

from this dark cold hotel room

and the endlessness that you fear

you are pulled from the wreckage

of your silent reverie

you're in the arms of the angel

may you find some comfort there

you're in the arms of the angel

may you find some comfort here

Vanessa walked into the main room after she had finished, smiling with her eyes shut again.

Vash wiped away a tear and sniffed. "That's such a sad song," he commented.

"I disagree," Knives snapped, smiling. His face then melted into concern. "But you're still too weak to be up and about, Vanessa…"

"I'll be fine," she replied. "Vash, why don't you fill the tub? I really need a bath," she asked, not turning to face him. 

Vash hesitated, his shoulders limp in frustration and confusion. "Vanessa, I…"

"C'mon, Vash, please," she asked again.

Vash cast his brother a 'you behave' look and grabbed the buckets. He filled them quickly and turned to leave the cave to see Vanessa walking towards him.

She brushed past him and stood at her carving table in the back, next to the water filter. "It's okay, Vash," she muttered.

Vash's look of concern went unnoticed as he went to the tub outside. But he could've sworn that when he left her she had reached for the book at her belt.

And as he walked past his brother towards the cave exit, Knives seemed to sigh heavily.

"Knives, could I ask you something?" Vanessa asked as she sat strangely close to him.

Knives' eyes quivered as though he was upset, and he nodded.

"You loved Rem, didn't you," Vanessa stated more than asked. "As much as you want to hate her, she was your loving mother, you know."

He shook his head. "No, she wasn't…I didn't love her, how could I, after what she did to Tessla, and…"

"She wanted to save Tessla," Vanessa snapped softly, reaching out to place her hands on the sides of his neck, "And she wanted you two as her sons, no matter the conflict."

Knives' eyes met hers and began to well over with tears. "She was afraid, that's why…"

"No, you were afraid," Vanessa again interrupted. "And jealous that Vash loved her so much. But he didn't love her more than you, he loved you both."

Instead of arguing, Knives slumped down into an early defeat, looking down as a tear broke free.

Vanessa ran a hand through his hair softly as she continued. "Killing your own mother…Knives…"

Simultaneously, Vash reentered the cave to refill his buckets. He stopped, mouth agape, at the sight of his brother, but Vanessa narrowed her eyes to usher him along. Vash obeyed, disappearing into the back.

"Why am I," Knives muttered between sobs, "I don't…why…but I…"

"It's the guilt, finally hitting you," Vanessa coaxed, running her hands along his back, drawing him closer to her. "Admit you were wrong and you'll feel better," she suggested, resting her chin on his forehead.

"I'm…sorry…" Knives hesitantly replied, as his brother reentered the room. "Rem…I shouldn't have…"

Vash dropped his buckets, the blood gone from his amazed face.

Vanessa glanced to him, and lifted Knives' face to look into his eyes. "You hurt Vash when you did it; you need to ask him to forgive you," she softly recommended.

Hesitating from confusion, Knives turned to Vash. His voice was broken. "Vash…I'm sorry…I…"

Vash bit his lip as the tears rolled down his own face now. Unable to reply, his own emotions began to wrench forth painfully. Before his mind collapsed into sorrow, he took up the buckets and rushed from the cave. 

Burying his face into Vanessa's shoulder, Knives' sobs became heavier.

"Give him time," she cooed. "He'll accept it once he thinks it over." She continued to run her hands across his back slowly until he calmed.

Vash shuffled briskly into the cave to avoid the sounds of Knives' sobbing from the cave top. At the distance, he couldn't hear Vanessa's low, soft mutterings, but still he knew they were being said. And it was creeping him out.

'This is the fourth time,' Vash thought to himself. 'Each day for four days, he's cried in her arms. She goes off by herself, and he's fine and all, and then she goes to him and he immediately seems to break down – every time. It's downright bizarre.'

Vash reclined onto his bed and picked up a novel. Thumbing it open at his bookmark, he stared at the pages, lower lip projected.

Sighing, he snapped the book closed and leaned against his pillow. 'I ought to be happy,' he thought. 'Knives has apologized to me three days in a row, and when she's done with him today, he'll probably apologize to me again. First for Rem, second for making me use my angel arm, and yesterday for sending the Gung-Ho Guns to me…What today? All these years - she makes them seem so simple. She just cuddles him a little and he melts. He's sorry for it all because she tells him that's why he's crying. But is it?'

  
  


NEXT SECTION:  http://members.aol.com/artchick12/smiles2.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	20. CHAPTER FIVE: COUNTERFIET SMILES (cont...

CHAPTER FIVE: COUNTERFIET SMILES (continued1)

Upon hearing footsteps at the cave entrance, Vash lay limp against his mat, pretending to be asleep.

Vanessa stepped silently into the cave, leading Knives along behind her. Knives's face was in his hand, clearly weeping.

She led him to the platform, and leaned down to see Vash. "He's asleep," she whispered.

Knives blinked the tears from his eyes and cleared his throat. "Let him, then. I don't think I really…"

"But you've got to tell him, Knives," she insisted softly, in the meantime shaking Vash gently. When he didn't stir, she shook roughly, stopping to notice the lack of effect.

"I don't want to anymore," Knives stated more clearly. "This is preposterous. 

Apologize to him? You must be joking."

Vanessa stood and grasped his hands. Looking deep into his eyes, she spoke as kindly as she could. "Knives, darling, his years of suffering were caused by your recklessness. Can you look at your poor brother now and not feel the sorrow he remembers?" She squeezed his hands gently, pressing them to her neck.

Knives' expression softened as he thought. "Vanessa, I can't." He turned and walked out of the cave soberly, the effect of his tears completely defunct.

Dropping to sit at the edge of the platform, Vanessa sighed. She took out her thick volume and flipped to a specific page. 'The condition is so brief. But I can't extend it any further, or he'll notice what I'm doing,' she thought sternly. 'I need to be better prepared; faster next time.'

A few feet from her, Vash opened his eyes. He sat up and cracked his knuckles casually.

Vanessa didn't have to turn to him to know he was awake. "You weren't really asleep, were you," she asked solemnly.

"I just wanted to prove a point," he replied.

She didn't turn or speak.

"Doesn't it seem ridiculous?" Vash asked sadly, "Parading him to me, a blubbering fool only half-aware of what he's saying?"

"How can you mock his emotions like that?" Vanessa retorted, obviously flustered.

"His emotions? Are those really HIS emotions?" Vash snapped. Catching himself, he lowered his head and took a calmer tone. "It's YOU mocking MY emotions, I think."

Vanessa bit her lip and paused. She turned to face him and spoke in a rushed whisper. "How can you say that? I'm trying to…It's for the best if…" She narrowed her eyes more in concentration than anger. "You're going to ruin everything…"

"Why, all the sudden, are you taking the whole responsibility yourself? We're in this together, aren't we? Between the two of us, we can figure out how to show him the light, right? You don't have to…"

"So then, what?" Vanessa interrupted. "For months we've been rotting in this cave, arguing to a rock of determined hate. We've gotten nowhere on the truth. A little misleading has gotten him further in these past few days than all those weeks before! Besides, this way, in the long run he'll be happy, and you'll be happy, and all the humans will be spared. What does it matter HOW we save everyone, so long as everyone ends up saved?"

"But…but…" Vash stammered, "This method is so…creepy…And…Wait, what did you say? Him happy in the long run – what do you mean…"

Vanessa frowned. "You know what I mean. I'll hold that off as long as I can, but eventually he'll want proof of my 'feelings' for him…"

Vash's face softened and faded. "I can't let you do that."

"Oh, spare me," she replied softly. "When you come up with something better, tell me. Otherwise, don't interfere. It's for everyone's future that you don't ruin this, okay?" Dropping the conversation, she stood and walked calmly out of the cave, leaving Vash to stew in the perfect futility of his position.

Over the following weeks, Knives made no more apologies to his brother. Vash gathered from Vanessa's hints that if she were to cause the sadness in Knives' mind by artificial means too often, he may suspect something. However, even without the coerced tears, Knives managed to soften his personality. 

He and Vanessa began a sort of courtship, mimicking a Victorian coyness. Knives held back his feelings for her as much as possible, and she blushed and smiled around him just enough to fool him into thinking that she, too, was in reserve. Although Vanessa's acting skills were sorely lacking, Knives was none the wiser. His passion caused his judgment regarding Vanessa to blur.

The charade continued, whilst Vash's mind raced for a solution. 'Vanessa doesn't deserve to live a lie,' he reasoned bluntly.

Most days, after the housework was completed, Vanessa and Knives would walk to the cave top with snacks and books to talk philosophy and chat, leaving Vash to mope about. 

Vash usually ended up in the shade of the outer cave, staring at books without reading them. He was bothered that Vanessa didn't pay him much attention anymore. Either she was glad that he had chosen not to interfere with her plan, or she was encouraging him to think of a better plan.

So he sat, plotting and planning; working through a million possible futures that all seemed to end horribly. Occasionally, in moments of pause, he would remember random details of his past travels. One day, a truly important memory burst forth, altering the course of his dilemma significantly.

"The rescue ships are coming," Vash whispered to himself. He remembered that day on the flying ship; the celebration upon learning that people were alive back on Earth and would rescue the residents of Gunsmoke. And that night, Vash had sensed his brother's angry response. Knives' angel arm sliced the communications satellite in a most horrific manner.

But still, the ships were expected. Since that day was now well over a year ago, the impending dilemma was obvious. Knives still intended to 'cut the sinners right out of the sky' and Vash hadn't yet discovered the proper persuasion not to.

Vanessa had just begun the wash outside, Vash noticed, as he rushed into the cave, where his brother sat reading. Knives looked up calmly.

"We need to let the humans depart peacefully," Vash stated nervously, "Then we'll have our Eden."

Knives frowned. "Letting the parasites spread? Tsk, tsk, Vash…"

"If you obstruct their emigration," Vash continued, "I will not live happy ever after with you! Even if you destroy them and their ships, I'll find a way to leave you alone forever. Or I'll be destroyed defending them. Either way, you lose! You want us to live in an Eden, right?"

Knives nodded. "Ideally, yes. But you're too stubborn…"

"Not if you let them go!" Vash interrupted. He knelt before his brother seriously. "We'll watch the rescue ships leave this planet, full of the humans you hate. Once they're gone, you and me and Vanessa and the plants…That's what you want, isn't it? Because that's the only way you'll get it! If you let them go peacefully!"

Knives opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by his increasingly excited brother.

"Who cares about the humans, right? They'll leave us alone, and in our Eden, we'll…Everything will be perfect, just like you want it!" Vash stopped, breathing heavily. "Deal?"

After a pause, Knives smiled. "Convincing, for once. You've nearly convinced me. I'll think about it," he responded, turning again to his reading.

As much as Vash hated letting his brother be so in control, he knew that the majority would benefit from this personal sacrifice.

And Vash hated the idea of living alone with his brother and Vanessa, for although he cared immensely for them, he also cherished time with humans. Seeing them all leave would break his heart, but perhaps it was the only way to save them all.

'Vanessa will have to keep up the act until they leave,' he thought, 'but at least I'll be around to protect her from Knives.'

  
  


NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/smiles3.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	21. CHAPTER FIVE: COUNTERFIET SMILES (cont...

CHAPTER FIVE: COUNTERFIET SMILES (cont2)

As Vash knelt, basking in satisfaction, Vanessa entered the cave. "The tub should be warm in a few hours," she said, sitting beside Knives in an awkwardly obedient gesture.

"You're first," Knives replied, smiling, without looking up from his book.

"But I always do. That's not fair to you two," she argued.

Knives brushed his hand across her cheek, again not looking up, as if to end the discussion.

Vanessa sighed silently, glancing to Vash quickly.

"Vash was just putting an interesting wager before me," Knives stated. "He has offered to stay with us and the plants on this planet so long as I allow the humans to vacate without incident. Those rescue ships are due within months, and he's getting nervous." His gaze remained fixed on his novel, proving the grave confidence and control he believed himself to hold over all other inhabitants of Gunsmoke.

Vanessa looked up to Vash questioningly, then slipped back into her act. "What a silly brother you have," she replied, smiling. "He loves the humans too much to stay behind, don't you, Vash?"

Vash gulped as she caught his bluff. "I'll remain here, in exchange for their lives."

"There's no need for anymore painful sacrifices," Vanessa continued, ignoring his words. "Vash should go on with the humans, don't you agree?" she added, leaning against Knives.

"The only way to keep him from multiplying his scars is for him to be with us," Knives stated solemnly. "I care for Vash too much to let any more atrocities…" 

"To be away from them would be worse than gunshot wounds," Vanessa argued softly.

"Right, well, forget I said anything," Knives snapped. "I'd like to finish this book before sundown."

Vanessa and Vash exchanged uncomfortable glances until Vanessa rose to check on the bathwater. She didn't return until she had bathed and dressed, to inform Knives of his turn in the basin outside.

Knowing that his brother tended to take long baths, Vash waited until Knives had slipped from the cave to turn to Vanessa. She was gathering her sewing basket, and, he guessed, headed to sew at the cave roof. 

"You don't want me around, huh?" he asked her quietly.

"That's not it, I just know you enough to know why you told him that," she replied sternly. "And both you and I know that you can scarcely survive without the friendship of those people. Those humans are your extended family, somehow, so I think you should go with them."

"Thanks for thinking about me," he answered quickly, "But I can't leave you with him. I mean, unless you…" 

"What?" she asked. "You think I enjoy…Oh, nevermind."

Vash sauntered over to her. He paused and placed his hand over hers to ask her attention. "We need to talk," he muttered.

Vanessa did not turn to look at him. "I don't think…"

"It's important," Vash insisted, giving her hand a squeeze.

Hesitating, she stood. "What," she murmured simply.

Vash glanced towards the cave mouth. "Come in the back, it's too important to let him overhear," he whispered, ushering her into the deeper cave cavity.

In this large, damp room, the reflecting light softly illuminated the far pond and the kitchen area.

Vanessa stood before him, arms crossed in expectation.

Finally getting to stare into her eyes, Vash gathered his thoughts. 'I think I was going to confront her about this lie she's living,' he remembered. 

"Vash…what?" Vanessa again asked. She looked fatigued from having to hold in her emotions and instincts in order to fool Knives into thinking that she returned his affections. The difficulty of it was apparently wearing her down.

Vash's face turned into a deep concern. "You can't keep this up," he murmured. "He seems fooled for now, but this is no long-term solution."

"Did you think of something?" she whispered. "Is that it?" A glimmer of hope sparked in her eyes, sparking enough life into her features that Vash felt a twang in his heart.

He had no strategy to replace her plan. If she were to stop softening Knives' heart through these lies, Knives would surely become calloused and compassionless as before. No one could be saved then.

Vash's expression revealed the truth to her. Rather than letting her throat tighten with sadness, she began to walk past Vash into the main area. Brushing past him on the way out, she sighed softly.

Vash stopped her, his hand at her shoulder. Looking into her eyes again, he wondered what he could say to console her, to give her that spark of hope once more.

He found himself leaning down slightly and he kissed her softly for a moment.

Vanessa drew away from him in surprise. She hesitated, eyes filling with tears. She bit her lip nervously.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, face flushed. "It's just, I…I want to be honest with you, so you can be honest with me. If for nobody else but me, please let yourself speak freely for a second," he stammered.

Vanessa's heart pounded and her vision became fuzzy as she slid into emotions.

"Please don't cry," Vash asked softly, moving towards her. But he stopped himself, not wanting to be forceful with her like Knives was. If he was to witness her genuine feelings, he would have to let her make the actions. "I just want to see you happy."

She concentrated on his face. As usual, he was looking to her with such a true affection, something rare in such times. Had anyone else treated her with such esteem without asking for something in return? She could scarce remember seeing in any other soul the innocence that Vash emitted.

She found herself reaching to embrace him as tears fell from her eyes.

Vash leaned against the carving table behind him as he held her. A few cold beads of water fell onto his hands from her hair as he pressed his palms against her back. She smelled like soap and dust to him.

Her heart was beating a million miles away, and most of the blood rushed from her mind. She felt faint.

Again, they kissed, but it was Vanessa who brought the action. She was a little clumsy from lack of practice, and a little rough from lack of restraint.

Vash couldn't remember the last time he'd felt like this, since the intense challenges he'd faced in the last twenty years had kept him from the arms of women. Vanessa entered his life at the moment he most needed her, as a healer, a confidant, and fellow member of the species. Without hesitating like Vash had, she cured Knives' infection. She didn't judge Vash upon learning of his past. And as the only other plant child he knew to be alive at the time (besides himself and his brother), Vash inherently knew that Vanessa was the key to 'saving' Knives. He hadn't thought of how, but somehow he figured that this calm, wise woman would hold the secret to Knives' affliction of hate.

Now that she'd finally fulfilled this prophecy – having discovered the way to create grief and compassion in Knives - Vash wanted in his heart to stop her.

He felt a hot tear fall from her cheek to his chin as she stopped, and drew gently from him. She looked to the floor for guidance, and rubbed her palms against her dress before crossing them awkwardly.

"Forget this happened," she mumbled, standing a foot or two from him.

Vash shook his head. "My memory's better than that."

Vanessa rubbed her wrist roughly against her face to destroy the tears. "Excuse me," she muttered in a whisper, rushing from the room. She gathered her sewing supplies and Vash's old, red trenchcoat, and headed for the cave top.

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/smiles4.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	22. CHAPTER FIVE: COUNTERFIET SMILES (cont...

CHAPTER FIVE: COUNTERFEIT SMILES (cont3)

Knives looked to the East, where he could faintly hear the howl of desert winds. They seemed to approach the cave, having been a mere whisper hours before. 

Eager to allow his mind to become distracted, Knives stared off into the storm. Thoughts of his weakness around Vanessa and apologies towards Vash caused his mind great anguish, and he preferred to concentrate on the neutral winds than on human-like emotions.

After much time had passed, Knives was startled to attention when his stomach growled. He abruptly stood and walked into the cave, but instead of Vanessa and a tray of sushi, he found his brother.

Vash was sitting cross-legged before an odd pile of books. The stack was shaped like a house. Slowly, Vash held an open book faced-down over the pile, carefully applying a 'roof.' Upon his brother's entrance, he glanced up, his hands and the book hovering questioningly over the pile.

"Have you seen Vanessa? I'm starving," Knives asked him, eyes darting over the cave walls.

"Not for a while," Vash answered, wincing. He expected Knives' hand to topple the literary tower. Yet it did not.

Vash opened his eyes to see Knives leaving the cave, and sighed with relief.

Just outside the cave, Vanessa met Knives. She carried a red bundle under her arm, and the sewing basket dangled from her hand. Her hair whipped about her head, and her eyes were narrowed from the sting of the wind.

"Go back inside," she told him, walking past him to enter the cave.

Knives obeyed, but once inside his fists rested on his hips angrily. "What's going on? Where's dinner?"

Vanessa sat, letting her basket and bundle fall to her side. "The sandstorm should hit us full on tonight."

"Sandstorm!?" Vash repeated, lifting his head in concern. He began to rise. "The tomas – we've got to get them inside…" The pile of books toppled.

Vanessa glanced at the doorway, shaking her head.

"No, they can't fit through the passageway, huh?" he answered for himself. He knelt to gather the books more neatly. "I'll have to let them loose. What else needs to be done?" he asked.

"That's all, we'll be safe in here," she replied. Turning to Knives, who was standing at the entrance still, she added sweetly, "Could you free them, please?"

Crossing his arms, he turned casually to do so.

Before Knives returned, Vanessa unfolded the red bundle and held out the coat to Vash. She had repaired the sleeve and mended several bullet holes.

Accepting the coat, he didn't raise his eyes to speak to her. "Why would I need this?" he whispered. "This is nothing but bad memories now…"

She shook her head. "It's a good coat, Vash. The best I've seen, for desert travel, and such a lightweight cloth. You'll need it. All your other clothes are beginning to stain and wear. Try it on; let me see if I fixed it correctly, please?"

His hand went to his throat, where he realized he was wearing his old, black, leather vest beneath the white, button-up shirt already. The extensive scarring at his chest, abdomen, and back hurt him daily, so this tight, leather shirt kept the pain to a minimum. Vash took off the white shirt and grasped his mended coat. There he sat, in jeans and black leather; a scarred man staring at the weary coat he had worn through his most horrible adventures. He sighed aloud.

"You need to put all that out of your mind. There are so many things you'll have to forget," she muttered. "Once you do, you can wear this through happy times."

Vash pulled the coat about him. "What happy times?" he mumbled sadly, fastening the buttons.

"Vash, if you show that long face around Vanessa too much you may depress her!" Knives chuckled, sitting beside her. Then he frowned. "Why are you wearing THAT?"

Tugging the coat flat at his waist, Vash looked at Knives in the corner of his eye. "Vanessa repaired it; she says I need it."

Vanessa nodded. "He will when he goes back to the humans," she explained.

"The humans? I won't…" Knives began to argue.

"They're what he needs," Vanessa interrupted. "You sell their usefulness short, darling. Amongst them are true craftsmen and talent. They can create the finest meals, clothing, haircuts, which we could all use by now, and…"

"Hey, don't I have a say in this?" Vash interrupted, ignored.

"Everything they can do, we can do better a thousand-fold! Besides, all they've given Vash is scars and pain," Knives continued.

"We cannot perform the skills of the human population, I.Q. or no," Vanessa argued. "You should experience it all for yourself before you make these claims. Unless Vash is completely insane, there must be redeeming qualities to them. Right?"

Vash smiled at this comment in spite of himself, but Vanessa and Knives were looking at each other and failed to notice.

"Regardless, I cannot allow him to wander, defenseless, into their cruel arms again," Knives stated, his face betraying a sincere caring for his brother.

"I'm good with my gun; I'm not really defenseless," Vash added, again feeling that no one heard him.

"You should accompany him, then, and see how he fends," Vanessa boldly suggested. "Before the humans leave for good, taste their food and get a decent haircut and sleep in an actual room. Let's live amongst them as Vash loves to do; it's not as bad as you think. And we'll be together. Protected."

Knives reached out to gently brush Vanessa's hair from her eyes. "But we're safe and happy here!"

Vanessa forced a smile. "We're happy. But Vash is suffering. And we're in terrible need for supplies. Soon we'll run out of rice and your clothing will wear to rags." She awkwardly ran her hand through Knives' scraggly hair. "You're looking like such a vagabond as it is, and I give horrible haircuts." She grinned wider.

Knives didn't reply quickly, so she continued.

"I can earn a nice wage as a nurse, and Vash can take a job; with money we can be well-received by the humans, you'll see. Just hold in your disgust, and keep them from fearing you, and we'll have a pleasant excursion," she added. Her voice suddenly took a more somber tone. "We can't use our angel weapons, since the hair darkening effect has become a major concern, so it would be best to let Vash do the protecting, with that gun of his."

Knives snorted slightly. "How primitive. But I suppose you have some good points…"

Vanessa clapped her hands happily. "We can leave within the week! The sand should be calm for the next days, so we'll have an easier trek through the desert."

"To see you so happy," Knives commented, smiling at her as he pulled her closer to him.

She resisted slightly, and found herself leaning back against him, his arms wrapped about her shoulders. She looked nervously to the floor before glancing up to Vash.

'She looks so haunted,' Vash thought, keeping a smile upon his face. 'Yet she seems to know exactly what she's doing; talking him into this was almost too easy!' He remembered the weight of her body when she had leaned against him, kissing him. His eyes went instead to the stack of books beside him, and then to the ripped flaps of his coat, which he played with childishly. It hurt him to watch his brother hold her in a manner she despised. He wondered if she would rather he be in Knives' place now. Perhaps she would truly enjoy being with Vash. Obviously she preferred him to his brother, but was the feeling more passionate than that?

Vash felt so utterly useless once more, unable to act in fear of the lives of all inhabitants of Gunsmoke. He yearned to take control of the situation, at least enough to wrest Vanessa from his brother. Riding on expectations of Knives' future actions was too precarious.

His hand rested at his hip, where his gun lay in the holster. He imagined himself taking Knives into the desert and shooting him dead. All problems would be solved then.

'No,' Vash insisted to himself, shaking the image from his mind. 'But I will practice with it, like I used to. I'll need to be as good a shot as anyone, or else Knives may kill someone…'

Vanessa closed her eyes and meditated to calm her mind. 

They listened to the evil howling winds beat against the cave as they slept, thinking of humanity in three separate and individual ways. 

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/behave1.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	23. CHAPTER SIX: BEHAVE

CHAPTER SIX: BEHAVE

Totally unaccustomed to desert travel, Knives had to restrain his complaints. He didn't want Vanessa to think poorly of him; Vash and Vanessa hadn't whined once since leaving the cave two days ago.

Knives pulled his cloak about him. At first, he was insulted at the ugly cloth when Vanessa insisted he wear it. Now, however, he realized how horribly the sun and wind would chafe him without it. Wishing to glance behind them, he knew he could no longer distinguish the cave on the horizon, and so he kept treading stoically behind Vanessa. Anxiety nagged him, yet he was decidedly calm. What would Vanessa think if he were to become an immature burden now?

So he stared to her, although unable to see anything but her cloak and backpack.

Vash, at his right, slipped his thumbs beneath the straps over his shoulders. His familiar red coat waved gently behind him, and the string of heavy canteens dangling from his backpack were a welcomed load. To be amongst humans again!

Vanessa reached to her side and touched the book beneath her cloak.

Instinctively as well, Vash felt for his weapon. The gun he had practiced with so religiously these past few days hung beside him. Tingling, his trigger finger was wrapped in a bandage. Peacetime stole his precious calluses away long before. He hoped that what skill he preserved would be enough to maintain tranquility for his brother.

     'But no amount of gunmanship will protect Vanessa from Knives.'

     Shaking the thought from his mind, Vash scolded himself. 'I'm demonizing him, like people do to me. Although he's been terrible in the past, he really is trying. It's not like he beats her. Or me,' he thought, chuckling only momentarily. This was little comfort. Vash's concern was of more than compassion – he was becoming jealous.

Vanessa turned around and walked backwards, holding her hair from her face as she spoke to Knives. "Doing alright?" she asked with a ridiculous smile.

"Uh," Knives stuttered, startled from the break in silence. "Vanessa…Yes. Do you need a rest?" he asked apprehensively.

"No, I'm fine. Thirsty, though," she answered, stepping lightly on always-bare feet to Vash's right side, away from Knives. She walked beside him, reaching for a canteen hanging from a long cord at his back. After the lid was unscrewed and dangling by its string, Vanessa drank slowly, letting her free left hand fall to her side, brushing clumsily against Vash's side as they ambled along.

Vash cast a quick look at Knives, who was staring at the sand before him, and unhooked his thumbs from the shoulder straps. The non-robotic arm now brushed past Vanessa's.

She took his hand in her own, and rubbed his fingers slightly.

A smile crept sneakily across her face, as Vash noticed from the corner of his eye.

Once the lingering sip was taken, she let his hand loose and re-capped the canteen. She dropped it gently behind him, where it joined the others, clanging softly from strings.

Considering the move both bold and cunning, Vash kept a stagnant stare ahead as he reached out to rub the backs of his fingers against her cloak. He felt the warm curve of her waist, holding in a grin. Again he let his arm fall to his side.

Vanessa playfully elbowed him in reply before again moving to lead the group. Hidden by the folds of her cloak, she grinned with eyes shut for a moment. But when she remembered their quest, the smile faded to a more solemn expression.

Feeling it was best to journey to a city Vash hadn't been to in a while, to avoid bounty hunters and recognition, Vanessa led them to March. If they had entered the city by its nearest edge, they would find themselves in a bustling merchant area, so she led them to encircle the city nearly halfway before entering.

Few people walked in the streets here, but one human was too many for Knives. He visibly shuddered as they passed the first, a decrepit old man resting like a sack of potatoes in his chair.

Vanessa moved hastily to Knives, wrapping her arms around his left. Pretending to hang onto him lovingly, she hid her true intentions. With her concealing his weapon, he couldn't draw forth the knives without hurting her. Thus, she placed herself between the humans and their exterminator.

Walking at Knives' other side, Vash fidgeted nervously. He surveyed the street, memorizing each detail for future reference. But these neurotic actions lessened as they passed a group of laughing children. Instinct ushered him to play with them, but duty kept him alongside his brother. Traveling alone had been far more fun than this would be.

"In a couple more blocks is a hotel called 'The March Oasis,'" Vanessa said cheerily. "We'll check in there and go job-hunting, okay, Vash?" She gazed up at Knives. "You can just rest until we get back, alright? I doubt you'd want to go out without us…"

Knives nodded, his lips pursed with disgust at the humans around him. He kept his head held high, staring above the people's heads to avoid their looks. "I hate it when they stare at me like that," he growled quietly.

"They're staring at all three of us," she reminded him in a whisper. "It's because we're foreigners to them. Maybe because we're all blonde. And Vash is dressed in red, that's probably distracting, too."

"Mm-hmm," he replied, face still stiffened.

Vanessa rested her head against his shoulder - not for comfort, of course. She frowned and felt his arm tense.

Knives attempted to snake out of her grasp. "Really, do you have to…"

"Oh, but I feel safer this way," she replied in a sugary tone, cuddling closer to him.

He stopped resisting and relaxed a bit.

As they stepped into the lobby of the March Oasis, Vash pulled a wad of double dollars from his coat. He counted them discretely as Vanessa spoke to the lady at the desk.

"We need two rooms – one for one, and another with two beds, please."

Vash looked up, surprised. Who would be sleeping in which room? Would he and Knives share a room, or…

"That'll be a total of 25$$ each day," the woman replied, pulling out the registry. "What are your names?" she asked, pen raised.

"Oh, Vash, should I put this under your name?" Vanessa asked, glancing to him.

Again, Vash looked puzzled, but Vanessa continued before he could answer.

"Vash Saverem," Vanessa proudly pronounced for the woman. "That's S-A-V-E-R-E-M. For the single. And Knives Saverem for the double," she continued, gesturing to Knives. 

Knives was clearly also confused and uncomfortable by the name usage, but his expression before the mention was no different.

After writing their names in the registry, the woman revealed her curiosity at this odd group, and cast a strange look to Vash. "Vash like as in Vash the Stampede? You've got the same name, I mean," she said inquisitively. "But you sure don't look like a Humanoid Typhoon…"

Vash flashed a goofy grin. "Yeah, I get that a lot." He handed her 100$$. "That's for the next four days, right?" he asked, hoping to change the subject.

The woman shoved the bills into the cash register, commenting as she did. "And I guess 'Knives' is some kind of nickname, huh?" She looked up, smiling apologetically. "It's none of my business, I'm sorry! I'm so nosy today," she added, handing them two keys.

Vanessa smiled and ushered a tense Knives upstairs.

They shed their backpacks and canteens onto a bed in the double room. 

Knives kept his cloak fastened about him protectively, and leaned back onto the other bed. 

"Should I change?" Vash asked Vanessa, gesturing at his red coat.

"Nah," she replied. "People have hired you when you were dressed like that before, right? I'm sure it'll be fine." She pulled her hood back and took her hairpins from her belt. After she twirled her hair into the spirals over her ears and pinned them securely she reopened the door and turned to Knives.

"We'll be back in a few hours with dinner," she said gently to Knives. "Will you be alright?"

Knives crossed his arms like a child. "Of course I will."

Vash followed Vanessa down the stairs and out onto the dusty street, each now breathing sighs of relief.

  
  


NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/behave2.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	24. CHAPTER SIX: BEHAVE (cont1)

CHAPTER SIX: BEHAVE (cont1)

"You're not really going to sleep alone with him, are you?" Vash murmured, shoving his hands into his pockets in frustration.

Vanessa nodded. "He wouldn't let me be alone, and you need time to be on your own. Besides, I'll be sleeping in my own bed, and I'm not about to let him…you know…"

Turning to look into her eyes, Vash took a low, serious tone. "How's that? Are you going to whip out that book and put him to sleep or make him cry? Your tricks aren't going to save you with any more certainty now than they did back when…I mean, you've gotten away, but your scars…"

Vanessa narrowed her eyes at him. "So what if my methods aren't COMPLETELY foolproof? I've done the best I could. And YOUR scars prove your talents are flawed as well!" She looked ahead and crossed her arms.

He stuck out his lower lip in reply, accidentally ruining the solemn expression. "It's just that…I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Like before, huh?" she muttered, shaking her head.

"What?" Vash asked, alarmed at her response.

"Huh? Like when I got the scars, like you said," she mumbled.

"Hmph," Vash replied, frustrated suddenly by her vague answers. "You know exactly what my life was like, but everything you've told me was so brief…I wish you'd be frank with me."

"There's no need to hear the details," she replied quickly. "You should try that restaurant there. You've been a waiter before, so they'd hire you," she added, hoping to change the subject.

"See? You know I was a waiter like you know about all the other things!" Vash again uttered a frustrated grumble. "I'll do that later; we have a few hours, remember? I want to talk to you about this!"

"Well, I need to check at the hospital before they close. So you do whatever, and I'll wait for you…" Vanessa pointed at an empty bench at the street corner. "…there. When I'm done." She walked away briskly, waving goodbye without looking directly at him.

Defeated, Vash sauntered back to the restaurant, where they hired him in desperation alone. Two of their waiters had left town yesterday on the sand steamer, unexpectedly, and they had to fill the positions quickly. Vash left with his new uniform under arm, and seated himself on the bench. 

"Whew! I had to drop all kinds of names, and practically beg, but I got a position there!" Vanessa said with a smile as she parked herself beside Vash.

His eyes were hidden by his sunglasses as he stared off into the distance, and he only smirked for a moment in reply.

Vanessa folded her hands on her lap. "We should be back by 6. It's just 4:50 now, so…"

"Please tell me what you've gone through," he asked in a hushed voice. "We can sit someplace else; I'm sure these memories are just as painful for you as mine are to me..."

She shook her head. "Here's fine. I don't really get upset about it anymore. But you're going to have to be more specific with your questions."

"Okay…Um…" Vash stuttered, unsure of how to word his thoughts. "You've got a lot of relatively small scars, and lots of different kinds, right? So, did you get them here and there, once in a while, or did…sometimes, did you get several at once?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

Vanessa cleared her throat and played with the seam of her cloak. "A lot are just everyday scrapes and scratches, but mostly there were times when people would…you know, they'd…" she stammered. "It's not really important anymore, I mean…"

"No, please tell me, I want to know," Vash insisted softly. "What you mean is that sometimes people would…um…beat you up?" he offered, wincing from his own words slightly.

She nodded. "I guess you could call it that. They used knives sometimes. Or they'd shoot me. But they typically didn't aim to kill me. Just…to…" Her voice trailed off suddenly. She paused, then picked up with a different thought. "And their words were weapons, too, considering some of the things they called me; told me I was…"

"Why did they do it…to begin with?" he asked in a voice so quiet it bordered on a whisper.

"One way or another, they found that their suspicions were correct – that I was…What with the ears and the book and all, it's always bound to happen. I get sloppy and someone sees something I shouldn't have let them see. And that makes me what they fear, whether it's a witch, or a demon, or what have you."

"It was different for you than for me," Vash commented. "Because usually they just tried to take me out as soon as they found out who I am…or WHAT I am. But for you they…"

Vanessa held the edge of her cloak closer as she leaned forward, hiding her face from him. "Oh, they wanted to kill me. They were taking their time – that's why I always had chances to escape. They took out their anger and fear on me in increments. They wanted to humiliate me, demean me. It seemed fun, for them," she added with a melancholy irony.

Vash dropped his head in acknowledgement, but his lips were sealed tightly.

"Is that what you were wondering?" she asked softly, her voice wavering faintly. "Do you want to hear the stories, specifically?" she said, a little too loudly, before again falling into low whispers. "I've avoided telling anyone the details; nobody really wants to hear them; they're depressing. Of no consequence now…"

"Tell me; these things are significant to me," he murmured in reply. "You ought to tell someone…When you're ready, I mean…"

"Now's the same as anytime, to me," she replied with a forced indifference. She leaned back against the bench, holding herself around the chest with one arm and lifting the other to shield her eyes with her hand. "Let's see…about fifty years ago, I was in the outskirts of Augusta, working as an assistant to a tailor. Things started to get uncomfortable right off, when the guy began to make off-color comments, like that he enjoyed blondes and things like that. I went into the back room one day to redo my hair, and he burst in. He started to grab at me, but he saw my ear and freaked out. A lot of people had already grown curious of my book, but I wouldn't show it to them when they asked. So the tailor told me that if I slept with him, he wouldn't tell them my secret. 'What do you mean?' I asked him. 'That you're a witch, like they think you are," he told me. So I made a quick excuse about being born with deformed ears, and told him the witch rumors were ridiculous. That night, a mob was at my door, demanding to see the book and my ears. I wouldn't show them, so they forced me to. The shouting started, and some people hit me. I couldn't see who. I fell, and a few people kicked me. I cried, and told them some made-up story, and they laughed. They dragged me off to some barn. The tailor was there – he told them I put spells on him from my book and things like that. So did another man I didn't recognize. A lot of people dispersed, but the more gruff, provoked men stayed. They tied my hands and started to call me names. They encouraged the tailor to 'take revenge' or something, so he took out his gun and shot me here," she whispered, waving her finger at her left shoulder. "When they got close to me, I could smell alcohol on their breath. They paced around, and would just fly at my all the sudden and hit me or slap me. It was like they were waiting for a cue. So, when the red-headed guy started to pull my clothes off of me, they all barked out approval and sniggered," she whispered frantically, pressing her thumb and finger onto either side of her eyes. She sniffed and continued, lost in the tale. "Three of them raped me," she confessed, barely audible. "The last one took out a knife and slashed me across the chest, then my back. Lucky the thing was dull; he didn't cut very deep. I guess it made some of them uncomfortable, how bloody it was getting, because most of them left by now. When that guy was done, he punched me hard, across the face. Called me 'bitch.' He went over to his buddies, wiping his hands on a rag, and they started talking about how to kill me, and where to dump me after that. They said a gunshot to the head was too good for me. By then, I wiggled my hand out of the rope, so I picked up this wooden stick, in my one hand, and I waved it around until I hit one of them across the head, and he fell. I ran to a toma shed and rode off into the desert. They didn't follow me for very long. It was hard to find a doctor, but once I had the bullet removed and got the stitches, I was alright," she muttered to finish, realizing that her story was too long and too disturbing for the time. And the clock across the way read 5:48 and the sky was nearing sunset.

Vash sat still, a pale frown upon his face.

Vanessa blinked and wiped her face with her hands. "We need to get dinner. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told that. I'm sorry."

"Don't say that…" Vash whispered, his words sticking to his tongue. "I'M sorry…I should've have asked you to…It's so…"

She turned on the bench to face him. "Well, you asked…" Then, she saw the glint of wetness on his face. Beneath those sunglasses, he had been crying. She reached out to wipe his cheeks gently with the back of her hand. Feeling the choke in her throat, she didn't speak.

Vash held out his hand, in which was a warm, crumpled 20$$ bill. "Could you get dinner? I'll wait here…I need a second, okay?" he asked softly, blinking hard under his orange glass lenses.

Vanessa nodded, taking the banknote. She retrieved a cheap bundle of food, and went again to the bench. 

Wordlessly, Vash carried the bundle and followed her home. He put the palm of one hand against hers, and she accepted, holding his hand tight until they reached the hotel.

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/behave3.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	25. CHAPTER SIX: BEHAVE (cont2)

CHAPTER SIX: BEHAVE (cont2)

Standing before their door, Vash was dressed as the waiter he was once again. He waited a moment before knocking again.

'C'mon, Vanessa,' he thought, chewing his lip in silent panic.

As if after the passing of hours, the door swung open. Vanessa was dressed as usual, in purple dress with the cloak, and spiraled hair. "Ready for work?" she asked him with clear eyes.

'You okay?' he mouthed noiselessly.

Her eyes widened momentarily and she nodded slightly. She turned to Knives, who was standing beside the window with arms crossed, looking awkward in the sunny room. "We're off for the day…I'll come by with lunch later. And I'll get some new books for you to read, if you'd like to stay in here while we're away." Smiling, she walked out the door and shut it softly behind her.

As they stepped down the creaky stairs for the main door, Vash glanced at her a few times, with a frown. He seemed to study her expression, to assess which words may be best to use.

Vanessa nudged him as they stepped onto the road. "Don't mope – you won't get tips if you look like that," she suggested cheerily.

"Seriously, are you alright?" he repeated, with bristled eyebrows and the edge of his lip in his teeth.

"Nothing happened; he's on edge as it is," she answered. "Like I told you, don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

"That only satisfies part of the question," Vash murmured, referring to the poignant tale she had revealed the day before. Again, he looked to her with a look of concern, more for her psyche than her scars.

"See? I open my mouth, and now you'll never look at me the same again," Vanessa sighed. "It took a while, but now I've moved past it. Please just drop it," she asked, touching his arm softly.

Vash made no friendly move in reply. "It's not in my nature to just forget about stuff like…that…"

She gritted her teeth and dropped the volume of her voice to a murmur. "Those encounters are all in the past now. And that particular instance was a half century ago. What, it wasn't what you wanted to hear?"

Attempting a reply, Vash stammered a little but was unable to form a response. He concentrated on establishing the right explanation for his thoughts. "Living for as long as we have, we've experienced a lot. Just because our bodies heal doesn't mean our minds can recover so easily."

"Easily? It took me five years until I could handle being around people again! Five long years," she repeated, her cheeks reddening. "So ask yourself, how long will it take you to see beyond those ordeals? Or will I always be 'used goods' in your eyes – a contaminated woman?" she whispered, recalling how men had reacted before.

Tears were forming in the corners of his eyes, so he rubbed them away before they could run free. "C'mon, you know I'm not thinking that," he whined. "I thought you might want to talk to me about the bad stuff, you know? That's what you do when you care about someone…"

Vanessa softened at the comment, and doubted her course of argument. "I'm not angry with you, Vash," she said softly. "I get flustered, talking about this stuff. Your shift starts soon; you need to be your usual cheery self. Put it out of your mind, please?"

They stopped, standing beside the restaurant.

Taking a deep breath, Vash looked to her with bright eyes. "Next time we get the chance, I'd like to talk in private with you. It's kind of weird, here in the open…" he asked quietly, trying a smile.

She nodded, also attempting to grin, before waving good-bye and heading for the hospital. Recently, she had begun to feel a familiarity to Vash, brought to her attention by the kiss. Although there were more pressing things to concentrate on, she hoped that Vash would show that kind of warm affection still, and cast the past aside. After all, she would be ushering him to the rescue ships when they would soon arrive. They had only those months left, before they would say good-bye for good, and Vanessa would have to begin her life of charade with Knives on an otherwise barren Gunsmoke.

Knives paced back and forth in the small hotel room, waiting for Vanessa to catch onto his clumsy hints. Two and a half weeks of seclusion in this room had made him rather antsy, and Vanessa was struggling to keep him occupied with the books and foods. But at this time when Knives felt that he should need it most, she avoided being closer to him than she had before. She insisted on modesty and slept separate from him, not even allowing him to kiss her more than just at the lips. Such reserve had seemed endearing to begin with, but after so long he had become perturbed.

     He glanced to her, but she had busied herself with a stack of books.

Stopping, he gestured to his bed, using a far more direct tactic. "It really is cold at night; I wish you'd lay with me."

"The bed's too narrow, one of us would fall off," she muttered, looking up. "Besides, I just wouldn't feel right. I'm not ready for that sort of thing."

"And you'll BE ready WHEN?" he asked stubbornly. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I thought…" He shuffled to her and crouched beside her, taking her hand in his strongly. 

Vanessa gulped, and struggled to maintain her composure.

He put his hand behind her neck and craned her towards him, kissing her.

She allowed this, for it was brief.

"Now, tell me if you felt something more in that," he asked her. "Because when I'm near you like this, my pulse accelerates and I feel I want more. Even when you're gone, I think about things I've never bothered with before, and it's quite foreign for me," he explained, displaying his emotions in the only way he knew. 

She nodded slightly and scrambled for a reply. "It's just not the same for me, since I'm a woman and you're a man. It's kind of hard to explain, but it's just easier for you to feel and think like that than it is for me. As a female, I wouldn't feel comfortable with certain…actions…unless I feel totally secure. Things are a bit too chaotic now. I can't force myself into it; you'll have to be patient with me. Please?" she asked, each word coated in sugar. She even rested her hand upon his cheek in a forced gesture of fake affection.

Knives tossed his head and heaved a sigh. "What kind of security? I'll wipe everyone else away – is that security?" he asked, growing further impatient. 'She won't make up her mind!' he thought.

     "Good God, no!" she exclaimed, caught off-guard.  "Traumatizing me won't help!  No; wait until they leave.  Peacefully.  Violence doesn't impress me, compassion and wisdom does," she added, describing Vash to a tee.  "Be patient for me.  Staying cooped up in here isn't helping – you should go out sometime.  We can all go to a nice restaurant; I could get tickets to a play or a concert; Vash and I got haircuts the other day, and we can take you to get one, too…" she suggested, holding out a 9 inch strand of hair from his head to emphasize the need.  His hair was the same length as Vash's now (Knives' hair looked the same as whenever Vash's hair was not spiked), and the visual similarity was confusing her.  She had hoped they would remain distinct from one another.  Nevertheless, Knives' resemblance to Vash now allowed her to most easily imagine him to, in fact, BE Vash.  Such a trick was handy whenever Knives insisted to cuddle or kiss her.

     "Alright," he replied, shuddering at the thought of being in close quarters with humans.  "So then, after they're gone, you'll bear my children?" he asked, as blunt as could be.

     Vanessa hesitated.  The skin of her face tingled coldly.  Remembering the odd duty she felt to humanity, she nodded, smiling.  "I will indeed," she choked out, secretly grinding her teeth to follow the words.

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/behave4.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	26. CHAPTER SIX: BEHAVE (cont3)

CHAPTER SIX: BEHAVE (cont3)

"Now THOSE are some folks I don't remember!" the sister, visiting from out of town, commented to the local woman as they hung clothes on a line in the alley. She pointed in the direction of three tall blondes that just joined the line outside the ice cream parlor across the way.

"Oh yeah," the woman replied, pulling the clothespin out of her mouth. "Now, there's quite a story there! They came in outta nowhere a few months ago. The girl, Vanessa, she works down at the hospital. Quite a brain, she is. Melinda, she works there too, says that once in a while that girl'll go alone to visit patients the doctors gave up on, and they recover right away. Dunno how she does it, but it makes the doctors jealous – she's just a trainee! They say she just sits next to the person, looks in that thick ole book of hers. I think it's a Bible. Mr. Jenson went in to the hospice when his cancer took over, had like two weeks to live, but soon as she came along he's been healthy as a horse! Creepy, huh?"

The sister nodded. "Dressed funny, ain't she?"

"Well, yeah, but somehow that low-cut thing doesn't look so slutty on her as it could. Thin as could be, she is. Acts so old, but look at her – not a day over twenty, I think. But, bless her heart, she supports the other two. Brothers. Worthless."

"But the one looks wealthy!" the sister exclaimed, pointing to the shorter-haired man in slacks, an expensive tie, and a dress shirt. "Son of a millionaire?"

"Nah, not at all! Girl says he's a reclusive writer; says he's working on a novel and doesn't like to talk to people. Talks with these big words and walks around like he can't stand anybody. You know those artist types."

"Yeah, had a cousin like that."

"Well, she hangs on him whenever they're out, going to dinner and stuff. Guess it's love; why else would she waste her time? The salary she's making now buys his clothes, and feeds the lot of them. And the other brother, well they're identical twins, but the other one's nothin' like the first! Always with that weird coat of his, and his arm all wrapped in black stuff…He's a waiter at the Blue Crab, but they're always near firing him - he's always out playing with the kids. Lets 'em boss him around during his breaks. Real irresponsible. Nice kid, but I think he's mentally…you know, retarded."

"Ah, yeah, I see it," the sister agreed. "Sad case, huh?"

The woman nodded, watching the trio collect their desserts and walk away. "Weirdest folks I seen."

Chuckling as she watched Vash tackle the three-scoop cone with sprinkles, Vanessa waved hello to the two women hanging the laundry. "I could hear people talking about us just now," she whispered when out of earshot. 

"Huh? What'd they say?" Vash asked, struggling to keep his ice cream from toppling.

Knives grumbled something, staring steady ahead with Vanessa entwining his left arm, as always.

Holding her ice cream in her right hand, right arm still wrapped about Knives', Vanessa let her left arm loose momentarily, to touch the scarf at her forehead. She wore her hair down these days, with a scarf pinned like a headband to cover her ears. "Well I couldn't hear everything, but it was still pretty funny," she replied. She could often overhear conversations with no effort that others could not, since her hearing was piqued even through the scarf. "They said I'm good at my job, and that Knives looks intelligent," she continued, summarizing as kindly as possible.

Knives sniggered.

Vash looked up with eyes widened in interest. "What'd they say about me?" he asked innocently.

"Um," Vanessa began, thinking for an avenue that wouldn't hurt his feelings. "They said that you play with the children…" Her straight face was broken when a giggle broke free.

"What? What is it?" Vash requested, looking slightly concerned.

Vanessa looked to him with good humor. "They think you're mentally disabled," she said as seriously as possible, with sympathy in her eyes.

Vash frowned and kicked the dirt before him. "Aw, man," he whined.

Knives cleared his throat. "Damn. They found out," he said complacently.

Vanessa stopped in her tracks, mouth hanging open.

Vash and Knives stopped in surprise at her action.

She began to laugh, tears in her eyes, and her grip on Knives loosened.

Despite efforts to remain stoic, Knives began to chuckle. A smile spread across his face.

Then it hit Vash as well. Knives had made a joke! Amazing! Vash smiled, shaking his head in embarrassment at the comment. "Jerk," he muttered, grinning.

"Vash the Stampede, you son of a bitch!" a gruff voice screamed from behind them.

Continuing to walk forward, Vash ignored him.

But Knives whirled around so quickly that Vanessa lost her grip on his arm. She rushed to his side again to wrap about his left arm. One hand wound to his shoulder, the other to his hand.

The others on the street stood gawking at the scene, frightened yet murmuring that perhaps he truly was THAT Vash…

"Look me in the eyes, coward!" the man yelled, cocking a shotgun and taking aim.

The ice cream cone shattered and flew from Vash's hand, splattering on the dusty ground and at the edges of his red coat. He stopped and turned, but looked at the man as if he was amazed.

"How dare you threaten him, you insect," Knives growled, his face and body calm as if there was no danger. His left arm alone moved, shaking Vanessa away.

But she clung tighter, digging her fingers into his underarm, below the shoulder. This, she knew, would cut off the circulation in his deadly arm.

Vash looked about to cry. "Who are you? I don't understand," he whimpered.

"Don't play dumb with me! You may not look like a Humanoid Typhoon to these folks, but I see through you!" the man yelled, his face red to contrast his salt and pepper hair. "And I'm finally going to avenge their deaths. Remember July, you bastard!" he screamed, blasting a shot at Vash's chest.

Hiding an expert dodge as the stumble of a fool, Vash fell backward. "Ow," he whined loudly, rubbing his backside as he stood slowly.

"Shoot him, you idiot!" Knives commanded his brother.

Vash again looked dumbfounded. "But it's for shooting targets, not people!" he argued with a childlike innocence, gesturing to the gun at his side.

"I know it's you – your name is Vash! You look like him, and you're wearing his coat! Carrying his gun! Pretending you're a moron won't save you today!"

"But I found them in the desert! I gave them to him, he's not…" Vanessa protested, fear in her voice.

The man hesitated, and took aim again, babbling incoherently about lost loved ones and years of attempting to track the Stampede down.

Knives attempted to pry Vanessa's fingers away. "Let go," he snarled, growing impatient with this insolent human.

Vash stood limp as the man's finger tensed on the trigger.

A loud bang rang in the street, and dust flew. Women shrieked.

As the cloud lifted, the man lay in the dust with a concussion. Vash had pulled his gun, shot three times, and put it in its holster so quickly that no one saw. The shots had knocked an awning from a window above the man, and the heavy thing had crashed upon the man's head enough to knock him unconscious. Careful not to create actual bullet holes in the awning, Vash was able to hide the feat.

"Lucky that old thing came loose," a man said aloud, "or that dumb ass would be toast!"

Vash loudly asked Knives and Vanessa if they could go home and Vanessa nodded, speaking comfort to him in a motherly tone.

"Why did you…I could've…" Knives stammered, furious. 

Vanessa loosened her grip just a bit and looked to him with saucer-shaped eyes. "I…I was scared," she deceptively stammered.

"It's better to settle things this way," Vash murmured, flexing his fingers.

Knives frowned. "That was sloppy," he sneered, letting Vanessa pull him along.

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/brothersunaware1.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	27. CHAPTER SEVEN: BROTHERS UNAWARE

CHAPTER SEVEN: BROTHERS UNAWARE

Although gunfights were not alien to the towns and cities on Gunsmoke, mention of the name "Vash the Stampede" held the imaginations of residents of March. No sooner had the awning fallen upon a gunman, witnesses rushed to tell others of the event they had witnessed. 'Think of it – mankind's first official Human Disaster – in our city! We'd be doomed!' they worried. But red coat and gun or no, few believed that the true Vash could be this simpleton. 'Vash the Stampede, the dangerous and perfectly evil gunman, working a lowly job and allowing children to wrestle him? Surely not!'

Leading gossip took Vanessa's comment to heart – that the coat and gun had been found in the desert. But she didn't seem the type to pull such items from a corpse. They hypothesized that this proved that the real Vash had not died, but rather had chosen to change his identity. 'He could be a brunette now, maybe disfigured in the face. Dang, he could be in this very town, and we don't know it!' people reckoned. 

Before the sun set that day, residents of March had become a touch more paranoid, abuzz with excitement and suspicious of the strangers around them. 

Vanessa stepped into the angry man's hospital room warily, sighing relief that the blow to his head had caused only a minor concussion. 

She had come at Vash's request. "Make sure he's okay," he had asked her. "And could you try to get a feel from the citizens? If they believed him, we can't stay," he added sadly.

Minutes after silencing his accuser, Vash had grown serious and insisted that they leave March as soon as possible, before more guns aimed his way. But Vanessa argued against this idea, pointing out that running so soon would be proof of his guilt.

The man's eyes cracked open, and he tensed against the bonds holding him to his bed. "Bitch," he whispered, weary from pain medication.

"Hey, now, watch your mouth," the sheriff called from behind her. He was not the only other person present – several medical personnel and citizens stood watch. They had followed Vanessa to the man's room, wondering why she would be here and what she would say.

"How are you feeling?" she asked him sweetly, stepping close to the foot of the bed. She skimmed the patient's record clipboard there, and found his name: Chris Rollins. "Mr. Rollins, we got off on the wrong foot, didn't we?" she said sweetly, sitting at his bedside.

"What do you want? Come to finish me off for that friend of yours?" he sneered.

Vanessa frowned. "He's not the Vash you're looking for," she lied. "The Vash you shot at today is a kind, sweet guy – he's not the type to hurt anyone. There's no way he could've destroyed July."

Chris stared up at the ceiling, unyielding. "Somehow, he did. I don't care how. I care about the dead."

"Someone IS responsible for that, but it's not Vash. I mean, the Vash I've been traveling with," she replied. "First off, the incident was over 20 years ago, and he's not much older than that. Surely you don't think a toddler caused that explosion?"

The man snorted in reply.

"He may look the part of the outlaw to you," she continued, unfazed, "but you don't know him. He's so upset from today that he wants to pack up and leave. And though that may be logical to him, I'd hate to have to leave such a nice city so soon, and for such an untrue accusation." She sighed softly and chose to follow rumors. Turning her gaze to her knees to hide the lies, she adopted a sad tone. "I've been trying to teach him courage, and you've ruined it. I want him to be a man and stand his ground, but he's scared as a little kid."

Tears began to run down the man's cheeks. He shut his eyes. "A mistake? All these years…and I've become…" he muttered bitterly.

She touched his hand tenderly. "Forget the past…live a life…Try to show yourself some happiness before your time ends," she suggested softly, feeling a twinge of hypocrisy from the last bit of advice. "Whoever this Vash the Stampede is, he isn't worth your time." She smiled, and leaned closer to whisper privately. "We forgive you, and I'll be sure no charges are brought against you when you've healed, okay?"

Chris's lips pursed with emotion. He nodded slowly. "Thank you," he muttered.

Vanessa busied herself to unfasten the tight cuffs holding him to his bed, rubbing the sore wrists and ankles as she went. 

Those in the room stood in amazement, slowly dissipating. They were almost saddened by the lack of drama.

Vash wiped away a bitter tear as he stared at his pack on the table. All his belongings were buckled in, and his boots were fastened. At the drop of a hat, he was ready to race into the desert, with or without his brother and Vanessa. He would prefer with. 'Why does it always happen, once I've found a calm place?' he thought with a whimper.

Hearing bare feet upon the floor outside, Vash peeked out of his door cautiously. Vanessa stood smiling. "We can stay. Relax."

"I want to go to dinner now," Knives grumbled further down the hall.

The sigh of relief Vash was bound to release caught in the back of his throat. Even if the humans weren't going to be his trouble, Knives certainly would be.

  
  


NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/brothersunaware2.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	28. CHAPTER SEVEN: BROTHERS UNAWARE (cont1...

CHAPTER SEVEN: BROTHERS UNAWARE (cont1)

After a fine dinner of Knives' preference, Vash insisted on a drink. Vanessa was able to talk Knives into the diversion by convincing him that the events of the day had probably left Vash rattled. A drink would sooth his brother's nerves, and leaving him to drink alone was surely a poor choice under the circumstances. Knives' frown as they entered the saloon did little to dim Vash's bright smile.

They seated themselves round a small table, taking in the heat and humidity of a room warmed by so many rowdy bodies. Vanessa gripped Knives' left hand firmly as he angrily eyed the fellows surrounding. He was sure they were looking at Vanessa with lust, and the thought both horrified and incensed him. She rubbed his shoulder to calm him, leading his gaze back to her.

Vash left briefly and returned, dropping two large, glass mugs on the table. "What'll YOU have?" Vash asked Vanessa loudly over the buzz of the room.

"Uh…water's fine. Just water," she insisted firmly.

Throwing no challenge to the comment, Vash obeyed and returned once more with her request.

"What is THAT?" Knives asked, nodding towards the frosty mug Vash pushed his way.

"Beer, Knives! Beer! What, you've never had beer before?" Vash replied, grinning.

Knives scowled in reply. He folded his arms and leaned into the chair.

"Don't waste it," Vash mumbled, reaching for his own. In a graceless motion he gulped down the entire thing. Lightly punching his belly, he let out a manly burp.

Vanessa giggled. "You don't have to drink if you don't want to," she said sweetly to Knives, letting a bit of a dare slip into the inflection.

Leaning forward, Knives sniffed the stuff. He was a little thirsty. With great effort, he swallowed the contents. "Tastes like piss," he choked out, teary-eyed.

"How do you know what pee tastes like?" Vash asked innocently. Grinning as Vanessa chuckled at the joke, he stood abruptly. "I'm gonna get some more. Want one or no?" he inquired impatiently.

Knives frowned angrily, but nodded. He wasn't amused, but she rested her head against his encouragingly.

Vash brought not two beers, but three. Knives struggled with one while he watched his brother chug the other two and then stride to the bathroom. In no time, Vash was back, this time holding four.

"What's the point," Knives growled. He wouldn't admit how dizzy this was making him, but he wondered why his brother seemed unaffected.

"I can take a lot, and it's fun," came the reply. "You're a lightweight," he giggled.

Knives choked down another pint as Vash eyed him from the corner of his own glass.

Vash had finished another two by the time Knives set his first empty glass upon the table. Reaching for the last, Vash's hand was interrupted by Knives'. 

Knives downed the last with less exertion and wiped his lips. He smirked to Vash when Vanessa patted his back and smiled.

Both men swayed in their seats now, and every word was slurred subtly. Vash's antics were of a classic funny drunk, and Vanessa laughed so hard that her eyes watered.

They drank until Vash's stumbling caused half of the liquid to spill from the mugs on the journey from the bar.

These sloppy drinks landed on the table with a thump in hopes that the action may startle Knives. Instead, he continued to hold Vanessa in a tight embrace, one arm around her waist and the other around her shoulder. She wasn't squirming to get loose, but looked worried.

Vash fell like a rag doll into his chair, arms wagging in front. A beer mug crashed to the floor.

Footsteps approached. "You guys've had enough," a large man growled at them. "Get outta my bar."

Knives looked up with a look of pure hatred. "How dare…you…You know I'm gonna…(urp)…kill every last one of you, uh…humans…and…" he stammered, obviously hit hard by the huge amount of alcohol coursing through his brain.

The big guy sniggered. "I've been told worse. Now get."

Vash stood wobbly and coaxed his brother to stand. They wrapped their arms about each other's shoulders and unsteadily sauntered from the saloon onto the road. Knives was muttering about destroying and exterminating, but was mostly as incoherent as he was intoxicated. Vash struggled to keep his brother upright as feet began to drag.

Vanessa wordlessly left a wad of double dollars on their table and rushed to them, taking Knives' other shoulder.

By the time they were atop the hotel staircase, Knives' eyes were glazed and he seemed about to pass out.

Vash and Vanessa stood on either side of Knives' bed, slinging him into a sleeping position and pulling the covers about him. Moving for the door, Vash looked over his shoulder to Vanessa, his gaze inviting her to follow. His brother was clearly unconscious, and would be for a while.

Pulling her arm from under Knives' back, Vanessa found herself suddenly held firm by Knives. She turned slowly. He was still passed out, but he pulled her beside him, nestling his face into her hair.

She looked plaintively to Vash.

The look he returned was even more distressed. 'Want help?' he mouthed.

'No,' she mouthed in reply, turning her eyes away.

Vash moped away, closing the door silently behind him.

Swinging Vash's door open minutes later, Vanessa found herself staring down the barrel of a silver gun. 

Vash, who was sitting in a chair and looking deadly serious, held the gun at arm's length. The red coat lied in a heap across the room, leaving Vash's arms to the mercy of the cold night air. He looked like the outlaw of rumor: wielding the big silver gun from a heavily scarred arm, dressed predominantly in black, buckled leather, with an impersonal steel arm dangling from his other shoulder. Anyone else would've gasped and run.

But Vanessa's look of surprise melted into a smile as she shut the door behind her. "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you; old reflexes die hard, huh?"

Without reply, he lowered his piece and set it on the table beside him. 

"You weren't drinking beer, were you," she asked slyly.

"The first ones were. After that, he got beer and I got iced tea." He gestured for her to sit on the other chair.

She did, still smiling. "We're free for the next five to ten hours, I'm sure. So I thought, since you slept in this morning, and I'm not tired, that…"

Vash's grin appeared slowly, and a little labored. "Sure, that sounds good." He wondered why her smile was so prominent. Did she need to fake a smile around him as well? But it seemed kind of genuine…

Self-conscious, Vanessa tried to relax her mouth. "Sorry, I just really enjoy time with you. For tonight, I want us forget our worries and feel like things are as they should be, you know?" she suggested happily.

Longing to nod, he chose to be honest instead. "But they're so very not. We need to use this time to contrive a better answer to this. This is getting serious, and he's still dangerous…"

"Want the humans to die?" she asked quickly.

He shook his head.

"Want to kill Knives?" she continued.

Again he shook his head. "But…"

"No buts about it," she interrupted softly. "There IS no other way." When no reply came, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. He still looked to the door, so she brought his gaze to hers by gently turning his face. Her eyes were pleasant and closed slowly as her lips met his. Though his mouth yielded little, she slipped her tongue past his lips in a kiss more sensual and calm than before. Eyelids lifted slightly, she drew away to judge his reaction.

Vash looked frustrated as he turned from her again, huffing aloud.

"What," she murmured patiently.

He hesitated. "I wonder how much of what I taste is my brother," he muttered bitterly.

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/brothersunaware3.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	29. CHAPTER SEVEN: BROTHERS UNAWARE (cont2...

CHAPTER SEVEN: BROTHERS UNAWARE (cont2)

Hurt, she held back angst to reply casually. "He hasn't been allowed to enter my body in any way," she stated firmly.

"Well, good, but what about when he wants to? And you've let him touch at you all the time…It just…" He itched his head nervously, meaning well.

"Enunciate yourself, Vash," she asked. "It makes you feel what? Angry? Disgusted? Jealous?"

Even without replying, his face hinted at an affirmative response.

"Fine, but right now, can you put it aside?" she asked hopefully.

"How can I? This has gone too far already! I ought to stop being so selfish and stubborn and kill him!" he whispered in a fit of frustration.

"Don't say that," she snapped. "Don't let go of your convictions like this."

Vash looked at his knees. "But things as they are…When I look at you I see two things: a person I care for very deeply…and my brother's concubine."

Vanessa's face went hot, but she found herself without words.

Vash continued before she could've spoken anyhow. "I know you don't want to be; that you're doing it to save everyone. But come on – I know he's got to think that you're going to be THAT for him." 

Her mouth hung open.

He looked up to meet her wide eyes. "Seriously, he is planning on using you for such a thing, isn't he."

She took a deep breath. "He believes that, but only after the humans are gone. But what is that, compared to the fact that those ships will touch down any day now! The important thing here is that he remains compelled to allow the ships to land and leave safely. And he's going to do just that. At this moment in time, everything is set up! The humans are in no danger. You and I are in no danger. And we have the next hours to either brood or be happy. What'll it be?"

"I wish I could slip into diversion for you. Really, I do," Vash answered. "But standing idly by when trouble's afoot just plain goes against my nature! All this time, I've been worthless. The sacrifices, the suffering – they're on YOUR shoulders. I want to take action, and save you from this crap…I ought to do something!" he insisted, flustered with compassion.

"The only sound way for you to save me," she offered, "is for you to give me hope. Things were bad before I met you, and they've been downhill since. I don't have much to look back on. I'd like a happy memory. Please."

"Tell me and I'll make it happen," he vowed.

Vanessa shook her head, smiling. "It's not a formula, it's got to be natural!" She took his right hand and held it softly. "Just sitting with you is good enough. You're the only one in a hundred years that I trust. You'll never hurt me, and I love that about you…There's something about a person who'd cry in perfect empathy for anyone." Studying his features, she grinned wider.  "And you're so adorable, it's not even funny."

Vash chuckled shyly. "No, I'm not; I'm Mr. Disfigurement," he joked, waving his robotic arm a bit.

"I always heard that scars are sexy on men," she retorted sassily.

"Ooh, then I'm a damn sexy man," he added, flashing his trademark goofy grin.

Vanessa smiled, but lowered her eyes. "And my scars…what would you think of them…"

"I'd feel sympathy, then anger, then depression, and finally acceptance," he listed solemnly. "But time constraints being what they are, I'll have to run through the stages pretty quick. A couple minutes, maybe. Or I can just ignore them," he suggested openly, a bit of eagerness shining through.

She smirked, appearing still a little uneasy.

Something more reassuring was needed. Vash drew her into a hug, made awkward by their positions in opposite chairs, and brought his mouth to her ear. "I doubt that anyone could cause you to look less beautiful. You say you were deformed at birth, but I'd say you got over that. And no matter what anyone's done to you, you'll always be an intelligent, charming lady." He drew away to see her reaction.

Her cheeks were a little red, kind of splotchy. She was smiling a bit, but her eyes darted from his gaze sporadically. "Thank you," she replied politely. 'He's seen so many women, I'm no more special than them,' she thought. 'He'd say anything to make me feel better; that's his personality. But just because he doesn't feel towards me what I thought he might, I shouldn't let myself feel disappointed,' she reasoned, forcing herself to smile wider.

But Vash knew the difference between her genuine smiles and the fake ones by now. He resigned to speak his immediate thoughts instead of pondering over compliments. "I'm sorry I drug you into all this…It seems you're much stronger than I could be, but you don't deserve this situation. Damn it, I wish things were different! I'd be able to show you a real kind of living; one without running and pain and sacrifices. I'm nothing but trouble…I can't give you the kind of hope you need," he lamented. Glancing up at her, his mind switched gears. "I'm such a bastard that even now, when I look at you, I'm thinking about what I want from you…"

"What's that," she whispered.

Vash hesitated, but since he had already opened his big mouth, he should surely continue. "I want to take you from him, but I also sort of want to make you my own. Kind of…I mean, not like he does, but because…I feel really close to you, and…um.." His voice grew quiet as he spoke, until it faded into a stutter. A blush crept over his face, redder than Vanessa's, and he regretted putting her in such a position of discomfort.

"That's okay," Vanessa said reassuringly. "If it were possible, I'm sure I'd like that."

    "Huh?" he asked, mystified.  

     Vanessa leaned in to him again, with her hands on his shoulders.  She stopped an inch from his lips, pausing to ponder the possibility of rejection a second time.

     Vash kissed her.  He wrapped his arms about her waist, kissing deeply and freely, happy to finally explain himself.  She seemed to melt into his arms and against his mouth, responding with every bit of enthusiasm and passion as he put forth.  Their actions became feverish sighs of relief; comfort on a level foreign to either soul.

'…Damn it…' Even with his ear to the door, Vash couldn't perceive that anyone was in Knives and Vanessa's room. After rushing to his room to retrieve a lock-pick from his backpack, he hurried to enter the room, pulse rising.

The sour smell of burnt paper met his nostrils immediately, directing his attention first to the ashen mess in the far trash bin. Vash rushed to this clue, but besides paper ash, the only obvious item within was a leather-bound book cover. His heart sank as he recognized the blackened thing as Vanessa's trusty volume. He lifted it, causing all the fragile pages to crumble into nothing - hundreds of meticulous sketches lost forever.

'My book? It's where I plot out my modifications,' she had explained to him. 'After I pore over the textbooks, I create these blueprints for regulating an action. All elements must remain controlled, or the subject will be mangled. For every isolated chemical I wish to alter in the mind, there are a thousand other details that must remain at set levels. This book, it's so many things now…the cure for many diseases, as well as the cause; the ability to alter sensory perception and affect emotional climate; and lately I've been dappling in genetics – a page on creating trisomy, another on defeating it, and more on the way for insertion as gene therapy…Each page took weeks, sometimes months, to complete…'

The wall clock read 8:17am. She had left his room last night, book at hip, around 4:50am. This book could've been burning for over three hours. A hasty search of the room revealed that their belongings were gone, the beds were unmade, and the bottle of rubbing alcohol apparently used as the accelerant for the fire had been purchased months ago, as said the receipt. 

Wasting no time, Vash raced down to the lobby and rang the tiny service bell.

The friendly desk worker stepped out after a moment, and addressed Vash with a smile. "May I help you?"

"Yeah, um," Vash began, struggling to remain calm as adrenaline and fear coursed through his body. "They, er, my brother and Vanessa – did they check out?"

The woman shook her head with a confused look upon her face. "What, did they…They left?" she asked, growing flustered. "I was wondering…"

"…When they left, were they dressed for travel? And did they say anything at all? Nothing? Did she look hurt at all? Or upset? No!? Um…uh, okay…well…thanks," he stammered, finally turning to his room. 

There, he opted to change out of his uniform into leather-covered jeans and threw aside his starchy shirt to reveal the leather vest beneath. The red coat was wadded up and packed into his travel bag.  After wrapping his old, crude cloak about his shoulders, he slung his bag over his shoulder.

But where…

He paused in the hall. 'Where the hell am I going?' he thought. 'The cave, his old base, another town, some hidden ship…Where? But…would she want me to follow?'

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/brothersunaware4.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	30. CHAPTER SEVEN: BROTHERS UNAWARE (cont3...

CHAPTER SEVEN: BROTHERS UNAWARE (cont3)

     The cold blanket of night had fallen upon the desert for many hours before they rested.  In the dip of small sand dunes, Knives pitched a tent.  Vanessa would've helped, but her arm was broken.

     The night before, Knives had awakened with a start in the wee hours of morning.  'Vash!' he had thought immediately, realizing that the sharp perception that hit his mind was an indication from his brother.  Such a phenomenon was mutual between the twins, yet not frequent.  Knives had felt such an instantaneous connection to his brother over greater distances before, as had Vash from Knives, usually in response to a great physical or emotional stimuli, or upon the use of an angel arm.  But his left forearm didn't tingle as it had when he had sensed Vash's angel arm output in the past, so…

     Vanessa's bed had been empty.  In the light of the five moons, he could see this plainly.  At first he feared that she may be in danger, but her hairpins, scarf, and cloak were all present, proving that she was surely not far from here.

     When she finally tiptoed soundlessly into the dark room, making her way carefully to her bed, she failed to notice that Knives' bed was empty.

     The light came on suddenly, and her skin paled as she saw that he was blocking the door.  Calmly, she turned away, drawing back the bedcovers.   Muscles tensed as she heard his footsteps near her.

     "Must you sleep with the book?" he asked softly.  "It must hurt to lay on…"

     "I'm used to it," she replied.

     "Give it to me," he commanded, his voice still gentle and quiet.

     Vanessa gripped the book tightly but did not pivot to greet him.  "It's private.  I don't see why…"

     "Now," he demanded. 

     "You've seen it before.  I'm going to sleep…"

     He gripped her right wrist and held it between her shoulder blades.  In a flash of energy, Vanessa's belt was slashed; it and the book slid from her hips.  Knives caught it and released her, standing aside as he began to flip through the pages.  His angel arm remained active, blades and feathers stretching about her dangerously.  

     Vanessa had no choice but to stand as still as she could, and couldn't scream, lest humans burst in and be slaughtered ferociously.  She could only glance over her shoulder, watching as Knives pored over each page.  Mind racing, she attempted to speak to him.  "You shouldn't be so careless – your hair could darken terribly from this," she called to him.

     Knives sniggered softly, eyes glued to the markings he stared upon.  "You shouldn't be so presumptuous.  I've got plenty of energy to spare before it blackens completely."  After all pages had been glanced upon, he huffed in temporary disappointment and dropped the book into the metal trash bin at his foot.  He knelt, maintaining his blades' position perfectly, and opened the bottle beside the trash bin.  Every drop of alcohol fell to saturate the yellowed pages.  As the lit match fell, he heard a gasp escape her lips.  "I had hoped some of them would be useful, but…" he noted before cocking his head to face her.  "Get your cloak and the lightest pack.  We're leaving," he commanded, gesturing to the backpacks in the corner.  Everything was prepared for a long journey, no detail overlooked.  The canteens were full, and still cold with fresh water.

     Vanessa nodded obediently as she watched each blade retract into his arm.  Gradually, she moved to her pack and slung it over her caped shoulders.  She stood slowly, adjusting the straps as Knives sat to pull on his own, legs out before him.  Once Knives worked halfway into his backpack, she took advantage of the moment, dashing for the door.

     The rug shifted suddenly beneath her, and she fell onto her right arm painfully.  He had pulled the rug from her with his foot, and remained calm as he stood to help her up.

      "But…Vash…We're leaving him here?" she asked, hugging her arm as she was pulled to her feet.

      "We're going, silently, and I will NOT tolerate anything more from you," he responded, tugging her cloak around her to hide her arms.  "You are going to put on your best poker face and step into the night with me, because you can imagine what I will do to the retched inhabitants of this place if you disobey."

     Vanessa nodded, and did as told, breathing not a word as they passed a yawning desk worker.  But on the street, she broke the stillness.  "My arm is broken, I'm sure of it," she whispered.  "I can't heal it myself.  I need a doctor, Knives."

     Knives shook his head.  "You'll instruct me and I'll do what you cannot," he replied calmly.  "But it'll have to wait until I find a campsite.  Do as told and bite your tongue."

     Frowning, she bowed her head and attempted to guess their intended direction of travel.  But though they left through the same street they had initially entered from, he headed too far an angle from the cave.  His movements betrayed no clue of a set destination.

     After traveling all day, Vanessa was eager to tend to her arm, which was throbbing painfully.  She watched Knives strike up a small campfire and dropped her cloak to the sand around her.  Gingerly, she pulled her dress from her shoulder and eased the sleeve as far down her arm as possible without the fabric falling from her chest.  Next, she gritted her teeth and pulled her broken limb from the remaining sleeve and laid it limp into her lap.

     The skin was gray and swollen.  He observed her effort as she pressed her fingers into the skin of her upper arm.  She had fractured it; it would have to be set and splinted.  "You have to pull and align it," she told him.

     Knives sat beside the arm, wincing as he felt the fever of the tender skin.  She guided his fingers along the skin, explaining what was to be done in detail.  He took her arm in a firm grasp and tugged the two sides of the fracture and attempted to ease them together correctly.

     She held in a scream with teeth bared as he worked.  Finished, she felt the arm, and shook her head.  "Try again," she whispered breathlessly.

     The deed eventually accomplished, Knives used a tiny output of angel arm blades to chop and whittle a splint.  Torn strips from the hem of his cloak served to wrap the splint to her flesh.  As she attempted to relax her mind and heart, he studied her eyes, forcing her to silently reveal something to him.

     Nothing was found here except pain and confusion, much the same as she saw in his.  She wondered what he knew – of the book, of that night – anything to explain why they had so abruptly fled.  He seemed to know the book better than she had given credit for, and his comment on its uselessness didn't explain how much of its function he understood.  But it was gone, and as her primary weapon against him, she was helpless.  And he had given no clue of what he knew about herself and Vash.  Did he know that he had been tricked into the drunken stupor?  How could he have been awake so soon, and what of the preceding encounter was he responding to, if anything?  She was still alive, perhaps a sign that he still preferred her to be relatively unharmed.  Separation from Vash could mean so many things, from mistrust to anger.

     "Remember that night, when you agreed to bear our offspring?" he murmured gently.

     She nodded slightly.

      "Was I wrong to take that as a solemn promise?"

     After a moment's hesitation, she shook her head subtly.

     "You'll keep that promise on MY terms now."  Knives prepared to stand, but retained his gaze.  "Get some rest, and don't make any motions unless I approve of them first.  You'll be sleeping beside me from now on, where I can keep better track of you," he demanded, pointing to the blanket laid out beside her.

     Feeling faint with dread, she lay in his arms.  The warmth kept her safe from frigid desert winds, and he made no moves to violate her, so she fell into a fatigued sleep.

     Simultaneously, Vash's forehead was pressed against the glass of a bus.  He gazed into the vast desert as though he might suddenly catch sight of two figures.  No one could be seen, and he frowned as he realized that he would soon take on the near-impossible task of tracking down his brother.  But first he had to travel to less probable locations.

     With still no conclusion as to whether or not he should actually attempt to follow Vanessa and Knives, and being no closer to ascertaining the exact reason of the departure, he chose to visit two abandoned friends.  

     "Meryl's gonna kill me if I tell her…" he muttered to himself.  "Aw, she'd kill me if she knew about HALF the stuff that's happened…"

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/hisrules1.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	31. CHAPTER EIGHT: HIS RULES

CHAPTER EIGHT:  HIS RULES

     An old man slowly approached the cloaked figure that had been standing motionless before a home for too long.  The cloak was ragged, and the man's posture was horrid.  A spiked blonde head shook slightly side to side as he turned from the door.

     "What's the matter, son?" the old man asked cautiously.  "Don't want any trouble…Oh, Vash!"  The old man ran to greet him, shaking his hand happily.  "The garden's bearin' potatoes and peas now – it's amazing!  Those kids you taught are workin' wonders on it, but I'm sure the soil and seeds wouldn't be there had it not been for you…"  He stopped, realizing the distracted expression on Vash's face.

     Vash forced a smile.  "Do you know where…"

     "Ms. Thompson and Ms. Strife?" he interrupted.  "They left ages ago!  You didn't hear?  Say, where have you been, sonny?"

     "Left!?  Where to?" Vash asked, maintaining his sunny facade.

     The old man scratched his head.  "That I don't recall.  But what about you?  Where did you and that pretty young thing run off to?  Made Ms. Strife awfully flustered you know," he snickered, poking Vash playfully in the ribs.  "Funny thing is, day after you left this crazy band o' hoodlums ran into town lookin' for her.  Is that why you went so quick?  You listenin'!?"

      "Sorry, sir, but I need to find out where Meryl and Millie went," Vash apologized.  "It's kinda important."

     The old man's curiosity was a bit hurt, but he motioned for Vash to follow him down the road.  "Ole' Betsy's got the forwardin' address down at the P.O."

     Knives instructed Vanessa to hold his hand as they journeyed.  She objected, but he maintained that if she resisted, he would simply tie her hands.  And realizing the pain that would cause in her still-sore arm, she kept her complaints to herself and let him grip her free hand with his.

     Trudging at his right, her mind grew weary faster than did her legs.  So many questions went unanswered in this silence; too many conflicting emotions to sort out.  She wanted to fulfill her duty and prevent Knives from wreaking havoc, but this was not the type of 'servile' she had planned to be.  Little stood between Knives and whatever he had in mind for her and the humans now.

     She froze in horror as she spotted the town on the horizon.

     "Come on," Knives growled.  When she remained still, unyielding, he heaved her forward.

     Vanessa struggled to stand and dragged her feet miserably as she followed him.  His fingers gripped her hand so tight now that her eyes began to water.  "Please, no," she begged.

     The expression on Knives' face was determination and fury.  Never did his gaze leave that town before them as he stormed closer to the homes.

     "Don't, Knives," she insisted desperately.  "You'll be sorry, you know!  If you want me to cooperate with you, you can't just…"

     "Can't what?" he snapped.  "These are no longer your decisions.  I gave you your chance.  I tolerated too much.  Relax and enjoy the display," he sneered with a queer smile.  His strides lengthened as he went, nearly airborne over the sands in a sprint unhindered by the woman he towed along.

     Individual buildings were now visible at the distance.  Vanessa didn't recognize the town, but realized that it was quite small.  "Run!  Run!  Hurry!  You're going to die!" she screamed frantically, with such an intensity that her words cracked in her throat.  Over and over she screamed it.

     A few curious faces appeared from doorways.

     Her screams rose to a fever pitch, losing meaning as her fear grew.

     Knives stopped at the very edge of the village, and in an instant, all residents of the town fell into piles of meat, perfectly sliced and perfectly deceased.

     Letting her hand loose finally, he allowed Vanessa to run into this tiny village and see the carnage for herself.  He felt mild disappointment in her as he saw her fall to the ground and mourn the humans.  As if they were anything more than garbage…

     She pounded the sand and sobbed aloud.  Vanessa wept for the fallen.  She hadn't the strength to crawl to Knives and slap him, or wring his neck, as she wished she could.  

     Knives panted from the effort, and he fell to his knees.  "I feel SO much better now," he sighed happily.

     The last person Meryl expected to see in her living room that night was Vash.  Yet there he was, smiling up at her from a pile of donuts when she got home from a long day of work.

     Moments ago, she was closing the last deal of the day, a hefty life insurance plan sold to a family of six.  Her old employer was rather bitter at she and Millie for abandoning their jobs, and only allowed them back in lesser positions.  Plenty of families in December needed life insurance, and so the two experienced ladies were assigned to sell door to door in the bad part of town.  "After all," her boss had commented, "You and Millie ought to be the best suited to working in dangerous environments!"

     But at present she was shaking Vash by the neck of his vest, scolding him about too many things to count.  Finally, she collapsed in the sofa across from him, crying.  

     "I was so worried," she choked out.

     "Don't cry," Millie comforted, patting her back gently.  "Mr. Vash's awful tired from the sand steamer, and he's got important stuff to tell us!"

     "I want every detail," Meryl demanded, suddenly serious.

     Vash waved his hands nervously.  "It would take too long," he replied, uneasy.  "I'll have to condense it.  Basically, we went off to her cave in the middle of nowhere to talk Knives out of his plans.  When that didn't work, she used that book and Knives' weakness to her and she managed to make him change some.  He apologized to me for stuff!  But she ended up making promises to him, such that he wouldn't hurt anyone if she'd…um…well, you know…but not until after the rescue ships come and go.  So we went to March and things were going alright, and…uh…Long story short," he continued, suddenly blushing, "I woke up yesterday to find her book burnt to a crisp.  She and Knives just plain disappeared.  No warning."

     "What're you gonna do, Mr. Vash?" Millie asked, amazed by the tale.

     He shrugged, attempting to act calm and composed.  "I'll think of something.  I think."  He shoved another donut into his mouth, watching Meryl sway in her seat as she digested the story.

     Ten minutes and five donuts later, Meryl had snapped out of her stupor and was addressing Vash with the same, hardhearted brand of reason she had used in the past, when things got tough.

     "I'm serious, Vash," Meryl pronounced sternly.  "You don't know that she hasn't begun to agree with his plans!  For all we know, she could be plotting the extinction of the human race along with him!  There weren't signs of a struggle when they left, right?"

     Vash shook his head.  "No.  But I just don't think she would go along with it.  In fact, I'm QUITE sure she wouldn't.  I think she's just trying to be obedient to him to keep him from killing everyone.  She really believes that she can bargain for everyone's safety, and thus far it seemed like she was right…"

     Meryl sighed.  "Gotta choose, Vash.  Either you trust her or you don't.  Because if you're right, and she's got everything set, you'll only be causing trouble if you follow them.  And if you're wrong, and you do nothing, we're all doomed.  I'm sorry to say it, but I'm beginning to wish he'd died back then," she added, frustrated. 

     His heart sunk, for he knew that part of him agreed.  Yet he shook his head, 'no.'

     "Mr. Vash, what ARE you going to do?" Millie asked innocently, taking in every word they'd said.

     "It's a secret," he replied, winking.  "But the main reason I'm here is because there's something you have to know."

     Millie raised her eyebrows, but Meryl remained stoic, feeling that he could say nothing more that would surprise her.

     "Remember the rescue ships?" he asked them.

     Millie nodded happily, and Meryl stared angrily.

     Vash flinched, but continued.  "Remember how we said we'd all board them together?  Well…"

     Meryl's hot glare caused Vash to restate his proposal.

     "When the rescue ships come, get on them," Vash insisted solemnly.  "No matter what, make sure everyone boards.  And don't look for me; I don't know where I'll be when they get here.  Okay?"

     "But Mr. Vash, why?" Millie asked sadly.

     He shrugged.  "It's a big planet.  There's no guarantee I can track you down when the time comes.  And from now until their arrival, I need to be far away from you two, so you'll still be alive when they get here.  Trouble always follows me; you remember."  He grinned for a moment.  "I sure don't want anybody to get hurt, not so close to the exodus," he noted cheerily, although in his mind he was thinking about the horrible feeling he'd gotten when the sand steamer neared December.  He knew Knives had used his angel arm, but couldn't know where, why, or what resulted.

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/hisrules2.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	32. CHAPTER EIGHT: HIS RULES (cont1)

CHAPTER EIGHT:  HIS RULES  (cont1)

     The scent of blood and broken flesh hung heavy in Vanessa's lungs.  Her body shook with horror as she took in the magnitude of Knives' actions.  There were probably around eighty men, women, and children dead, though in order to know exactly, one would have to carefully hunt through the gore and count heads.  She struggled to calm herself, driven by the knowledge that it would do no good to be in shock.

     Knives reappeared from a shop with a bag of food and supplies.  Behind him lay a trail of bloody footprints.  Choosing a spot on the road several feet from Vanessa, he eyed her as he packed the goods into his backpack.  "Fill the canteens.  We're leaving."

     Vanessa pulled herself onto her knees, squinting through bloodshot eyes.  "How could you?" she screamed.  "They did NOTHING to you!"

      "They did plenty.  Not to me, but to our kind," he corrected, gesturing over his shoulder at the lone plant that charged the village.  "Hurry, now.  Don't want to be here when help arrives, or you'll have to witness another nasty little scene..."

     She picked up a rock and pitched it at his head.  The throw was weakened with exhaustion and the fact that she was not left-handed.  The rock sailed well past him.  "WHY?  Why THEM?  Why NOW?" she asked incredulously.

     Pulling the backpack into place, he sighed with an escalating impatience.  "I had to release a little tension," he replied calmly.  "If I hadn't, I'm sure I'd have wrung your delicate little neck by now.  You have no idea…" he began, stopping himself.  "Get the damned water, Vanessa."

     Her heart sank to a new low.  "Wh...What?  What did I do?" she asked innocently, hoping that he was ignorant of her charade and the secret words she had made against him.

     He rushed towards her and yanked her to her feet.  "You KNOW what you did.  VASH knows what you did.  I should hate you for it, but I've chosen to forgive you.  Don't take it for granted, or else I may CHANGE my MIND," he snarled, inches from her tear-soaked face.  Still holding her firm by the upper arm not yet broken, he grabbed the back of her neck with his free hand and pulled her towards him.  He drew her into a cold kiss, salty with her tears and his sweat.  Forcing his tongue past her teeth, he stopped only once he knew she was too frightened - or too clever - to bite down.  In a harsh gesture, he shoved her away and pushed her towards a water cooler.

     With trembling hands she filled the canteens and fought back screams of hate.

     Onward they trekked, perhaps to no definitive destination.  The desert did not bow to these two 'superior' beings, beating harsh sun upon their cloaked bodies and whipping sand against them in every possible direction.  One figure appeared to dwarf the other, since the former hiked upright and wore boots, and the latter stooped as though fatigued, on bare feet.  In reality, the latter was a mere inch shorter.  Such inequalities - whether of height, intelligence, willpower, tenacity, or any other attribute – seemed far greater than they truly were.

      "Did you hear!?" a shrill voice called out.

     From all directions, heads popped up from desks.

     A young man stopped within the main room of the Agency, between rows of desks.  Hands on his knees, he panted to regain his breath.

      "What is it?" they asked him.

     He lifted his head.  "He's been spotted!  In March!  Two days ago.  Can you BELIEVE it?"

     Meryl slammed her hands upon her boss's desk.  "You can't be serious!" she told him, exasperated.

      "Oh, but I am," he replied.  "And don't use that tone with me!  Vash the Stampede may've been out of our hands as far as insurance claims go, but the people are demanding that we reopen the case!  Mankind's first official human disaster area is on the loose again, and though I hope he doesn't go on another madman rampage, if he does…Well, let's just say I'll have more letters to sort through than I could read in a lifetime.  Law officials have been breathing down my neck all morning, claiming that our prior investigation lacked evidence.  They think we're snaking out of our obligations to insurance holders!  This is worse than bad for business, Ms. Strife."

     Glancing down, she noticed that her hand was covering a photograph of the man in question, a candid shot of Vash in his familiar red coat in March.  "You've got to assign Millie and myself to the case," she insisted.  "We'll follow him like before…"

     She was interrupted by the bawdy laughter her boss was emitting.  "Like before?  We paid how much?  Remember?  Claims didn't fall when you two were on the job, they rose!  I want to save this company, not render it bankrupt!  Ha ha…assign you two…ha!"

     Meryl's face was red.  "We're the only people to live around him for more than a day!  No one else has been able to track him.  No one."

     The boss wiped a tear from his eye.  "Really.  Well, that Millie of yours – her sales for the past months have been atrocious, and yours are not spectacular compared to our other staffers.  They say you're curt with customers.  So I see no harm in giving you the assignment.  But it won't be like before.  You'll receive money for travel and food alone.  No damage payments if you get hurt.  We can't afford it.  And your salaries will remain at the current amount.  There are already ten more reliable staffers assigned the position, but you'll be traveling alone, just the two of you.  And don't get in the way of the Special Research Squad – they'll have a hard time as it is, trying to prove that The Stampede caused that hole in the moon…"

     She was horrified.  "The same wage?  No damage payments?  Not the only ones?" she roared.

     He narrowed his eyes angrily.  "Take it or leave it.  Now get out of my office."

     Meryl swallowed her pride and nodded.  "We'll leave this afternoon," she replied, before flying out of the room and hailing the first taxi she saw.

      "No way!" Vash yelled, waving his hands defensively before an excited Meryl.

      "You'll wear it and you'll like it," she growled, pushing the wig and outfit into his chest.

      "It's not that…I can't let you come with me!" he corrected her.  "I can't!  This is dangerous!  He's probably mad as Hell, and you have NO idea what that's like!"

     "You can't stop us this time," Millie answered cheerily.  "We'll keep our promise, though."

      "How can you keep your promise?" Vash replied, flustered.  "You agreed to stay away from me so you won't get hurt!  You'll probably die if you follow me now!"

      "We're only going to follow you for a while," Meryl responded solemnly.  "Just until we're sure you've found them.  Once we've gotten you safely there, we'll split.  We're not such gluttons for punishment that we'd stick around for THAT."

      "Seriously?  But how do I know…"

     Meryl and Millie stood firm, crossing their arms stiffly.  Each was dressed for travel, toting respective weaponry and luggage.

      "Damn it!" Vash whined feebly.  "Not again!"

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/hisrules3.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	33. CHAPTER EIGHT: HIS RULES (cont2)

NOTE TO READERS…please review!  For the love of Pete, please review!

---------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER EIGHT:  HIS RULES  (cont2)

     Meryl drove the mini hummer into the desert with her head held high.  With Millie in the back, smiling happily as she clutched her stungun, all was right in the world.  

     Well, not everything.  

     But for Meryl, life seemed correct once more.

     She glanced to the strange man in the passenger seat.  His hair was shaggy brown, falling into his eyes as the wind whipped up.  The crisp, white shirt and black tie accentuated his thick, black glasses frames.  Folded hands lay upon his lap, legs of denim wrapped in leather.  He shifted his thick-booted feet awkwardly.

     Over her shoulder, December was an ant-sized city on the magenta horizon.  "We're far enough," she called to the man beside her.

     In an instant, the brown hair, black tie, and glasses flew onto the back seat floor.

"Couldn't you have picked something…I don't know…a little less…CRAPPY!" Vash whined childishly, smoothing his hair back into its usually spiky consistency.

     Meryl punched his shoulder and returned to the steering wheel.  "It's a PERFECT disguise," she insisted angrily.  "Who'd guess that Vash the Stampede would dress like a total nerd?"

     Vash rubbed his shoulder.  "I'd almost rather be caught," he grumbled under his breath.  He turned to them and raised his voice inquiringly.  "What kind of help do you girls think you're going to be?" he asked, hands raised defensively from Meryl's poised fist.  "I know you mean well, but it's not fair to you; to have to leave your peaceful lives and take up arms again.  If I were you two, I'd take advantage of the fact that back there you've got a home and a life and…and you're safe from danger..."

     Millie shook her head.  "No, we weren't, we had to work the streets in the slums every day to make our money," she countered.

     Face blushing with the accidental innuendo, Meryl was quick to clarify.  "She means we sold insurance door to door there.  It's pretty harsh – I was held up twice yesterday.  Then I had to wait all that time for the ambulances to pick up the morons…"

      "You too?" Millie added.  "I've been held up so many times I've lost count!  But usually they run once I pull out my stungun.  It's like they're scared of me or something!" she claimed incredulously.

      "Anyway," Meryl continued, rolling her eyes, "you need us for plenty of things.  We'll keep you well disguised, well fed; we'll take care of the minor hoodlums and make sure you stay on task.  You know, you have a horrible tendency towards distraction and moping."

     Vash turned, whining.  "I do not!"

      "Yes you do!" she insisted.  "If we hadn't come with you, what would your next step be?  Wandering aimlessly while you scarf down donuts and cry?"

     He frowned.  "This is serious.  I can't waste time on…"

      "There are several other Agency workers hot on your trial, so it's a good thing we'll be there for you, recognizing them and keeping them from your actual whereabouts," Meryl interrupted. "Which way are we headed anyhow?"

     Hesitating, Vash pointed forty degrees to the left.  He took a moment to scan the horizon for wanderers.

      "Not only that, but we'll also provide information," she continued loudly.  "We can interview people for you, and track he and Vanessa down, as well as keep you updated on any strange phenomenon.  Whatever happens, you need to be on top of the news and at the pinnacle of good health, right?  Well, we're going to do it all for you, and truly – we do promise to leave like lightening the moment Knives is in sight.  That won't be difficult for us, considering…"

     A shudder ran down her spine, he saw, as she mentioned his brother, and Millie nodded solemnly in agreement.

     In the steam-filled air, Knives' cold, piercing gaze chilled Vanessa's bones.  Her knees were pulled together and with her good arm she shielded her chest, but no pose gave her comfort.  His eyes were killing her as she lay in the bath.

      "Why are you here," she growled.

      "You needed help.  Those wrappings are too complicated to remove with your one hand," he reasoned, referring to the splint and strips that affixed it to her broken limb.  Truly, she couldn't get it off on her own, since it had to be wrapped to her side and chest with an assembly of even more cloth strips.  This was the price of Knives' refusal of human medical attention for the fracture.

      "Every time, you have to stay with me," she commented dryly.  "I want a moment to bathe.  Alone.  Why even now are you STILL HERE?" she yelled angrily.

      "Keep your voice down," he snapped from his seat, several feet from the foot of the bathtub.  "If anyone approaches us they will die."

      'He surely knows that I wouldn't try to escape,' she thought.  'There's no escaping him.  I haven't tried in weeks…He should have the decency to give me privacy.'  She stopped that thought.  No, privacy was no longer important.

     Every three to thirteen days for the past month they had stopped in a random small town for supplies and to wash up, but never to sleep.  Vanessa hadn't recognized half the towns. According to her observations, Knives was leading on in an anarchic amble, probably so that no one could logically track them.  

     She wasn't permitted to so much as lift her hood and meet eyes with a human.  Fear for the lives surrounding her kept her humble in settlements, so she allowed herself to be pulled along by the hand until they had found a hotel room.

     Knives hadn't killed anyone since the first village, probably knowing that a trail of carnage would leave clues for his brother to follow.

      "Wash your hair," Knives asked softly, bringing her from her thoughts.

      "I just did."

      "That's not going to do it," he demanded.  "Your hair has lost its comfort since we left March.  You let the sand rest in it as if you enjoy being filthy."

     She obeyed, moving to shampoo her hair a second, then a third time.  As she labored, she sunk deeper into the water to avoid his stares.  "You're dirty too," she suddenly noted.  "Aren't you in a rush to bathe?  Don't you want me to 'hurry the Hell up' like you say about everything else?" she mumbled.  

     Knives shook his head.  "Not for this.  I can wait." 

      "Because you enjoy this."  

      "Yes."

     Vanessa frowned.  Betraying not one hint of the concentration, she continued to focus on her spine.  She secretly brought forth the angel weapon from the skin at her back.  The edges of her old, square scar bulged and pressed into the porcelain behind her as the formation began.

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/hisrules4.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	34. CHAPTER EIGHT: HIS RULES (cont3)

…Note that I write my best whilst sitting atop a big pile of reviews…

---------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER EIGHT:  HIS RULES  (cont3)

     Vanessa closed her eyes and breathed deeply, attempting to appear relaxed in this hot tub of water.  The angel formation came slowly and with great effort, so she hoped that her calm guise and already-reddened flesh would hide it from Knives until she could indulge her silent query.

     He watched her as if ignorant of the entire act, casual as before.  There was no way he could see it from where he sat, since the origin of the formation was at her back and only stretched up to her shoulders and chest once fully formed.

     But the effort was strenuous, and she couldn't hide the fact for long.  Her face suddenly divulged the exertion, contorting into pain.  Heaving relief, she let the formation fall back into her skin before the ache became intense.  Vanessa weakly opened her eyes, breathing heavily, to comprehend Knives' lack of response.

     Knives looked calm yet slightly concerned.  "Don't you know that it won't work?  Vanessa, you're too intelligent to forget past lessons.  As I've taught you through trial and error once before, you cannot bring it to an adequate formation without assistance, which I will not provide.  Don't drain yourself needlessly, darling," he explained softly, chuckling a bit.  'Her spirit is amusing, but antics like these will do her no good,' he thought, perturbed.

     She grabbed a towel and rose from the tub in the same awkward way she had practiced before, allowing him no clear view of her in such a vulnerable state.  With a straight face, she stepped onto the floor, thinking only of what she had just witnessed.  

     When the formation was made in her back just then, his left hand shone and flickered slightly, in a nearly perfect little blade.  The phenomenon seemed outside of his consciousness, an automatic reaction from one plant to another.

     It was just what she wanted to see.

      "Sorry we couldn't be of any help to you folks," said the man who'd followed Meryl, Millie, and a disguised Vash from the town square.  In yet another mass inquiry, the girls had asked them if they'd seen two, tall, blonde strangers about, and no one had any useful information.  This darker-skinned man in particular seemed nosier than the rest.

     Meryl looked up from filling the gas tank and smiled.  "Oh, that's alright.  But if you could keep an eye out for us…"

     The man in overalls wiped his brow and replaced his cap.  "Sure thing, Miss.  But I was just wondering why you all were looking for folks like that.  I mean, why would the Feds be tracking a couple of unarmed folks anyhow?"

     Millie kept quiet, not enjoying this lie.

      "Top secret," Meryl snapped in an official tone.

      "Where are you all's badges?  Aren't Feds supposed to have badges?"

     Meryl grew annoyed and turned to scold the man for his snooping, but froze when she recognized his face.  "Uh…Hal…"

     Hal grinned slyly.  "The boss ain't happy that you two stopped sending in reports.  And who's that goofball?" he asked, pointing to Vash.

     Vash smiled in reply, trying to act inconspicuous.

      "Well, if you aren't giving answers, I don't need them," Hal continued, grinning with hands in pockets as he sauntered off.

     Millie waved goodbye happily as he walked off.  "Bye Hal!"

     Later, in the hummer, Meryl was gripping the steering wheel with a vice grip. "I know, I know, I should've recognized him.  But I didn't.  So what.  It's not like he knew who you were or anything."

      "Okay, but…"

      "Drop it," Meryl hissed, angry with herself.  "Let's go over the list again."

     Vash nodded in agreement, feeling that he could assume enough on his own.

     Millie led as usual, beginning to name off locations.  "Vanessa's cave."

     He frowned, wishing he hadn't had to reveal the secret sanctuary.  "Because Knives liked it there, and because there's no humans there," Vash responded, summarizing the logic (or lack thereof) of checking the place named.

      "Visited; found no witnesses to question and no evidence," Meryl finished.

      "New Ohio."

      "Because it's a small population and out in the boonies."

      "Visited; no clues from witnesses or evidence."

      "Galvin."

     Vash gritted his teeth.  This was the isolated village where, weeks ago, eighty-three were found slaughtered in a most mysterious way.  Forensics had dated the time of death to be the same for all persons – the day after Vanessa and Knives left March.

      "Millie, we decided not to mention that one," Meryl corrected her softly.

      "Sorry, Mr. Vash," Millie apologized sadly.

     They sat in an awkward pause.

      "Uh…Where to?" Meryl asked, putting on her cheeriest expression.

     Vash scanned the horizon and half-assed some directions.

     Millie giggled.  "You don't have to try so hard, Mr. Vash.  We know you don't know where you want to go.  But it's okay."

      "Yeah, don't worry.  We'll wander aimlessly if you want," Meryl added with the same degree of helpfulness.

     He would've thanked them for their trusting kindness, but he had already become overwhelmed with a contrasting emotion.  Tears rolled down his angelic face.  His features twisted into sorrow and he began to sob into his hands miserably.

     Millie reached to pat Vash on the back gently.  "I'm sorry, Mr. Vash, I shouldn't have mentioned that village again!  But even before, you didn't get this upset!"

     Meryl nodded and grabbed his arm.  He had been upset for a while after hearing the news about Galvin, but this sort of crying was reminiscent of a far more serious grief.  "Whoa, whoa!  Vash!  Pull yourself together, okay?" Meryl insisted, deeply concerned.  "Why don't you open up a little; let us in on some details!  You know, you're more likely to meet success if you aren't in a deep depression!"

     Vash garbled something about the poor lives lost in Galvin, but then slipped into gloomy worries about Vanessa.  "He could've done so many things already…I wish I knew she was…alright…but I don't know what he…She told me…not to protect her…but…she…" he stammered through his sobs.

      "Mr. Vash, you get so quiet when we mention her name…Did you get to know her pretty well?" Millie asked.

     He nodded, and sniffed.  "After all of it, I grew kind of close to her," he answered gently.

     Millie smiled.  "Aw, Mr. Vash, did you fall in…"

      "Close like a sister, Millie," Meryl interrupted quickly.  "They look like siblings, so it couldn't be more than that."

      "Sister?  That's not what I meant," Vash corrected her.

      "Sister-in-law, then," Meryl continued loudly.  "After all, she was acting as his girlfriend, or whatever, when you last saw them…"

     Vash frowned.  "She didn't want to, she had to!"

      "Regardless, she did, and…and…"  Meryl was clearly flustered.  "If she was working on two brothers at the same time, she's quite the hussy!"

     His jaw fell.  "You…what!?  Don't say that, she…"

     Steam was about to pour from Meryl's ears.  "So you DID…You…You…Arg!" she hissed, pausing a moment before slapping at Vash.  Without any hands on the wheel, the hummer began to swerve.

      "Meryl!" Millie yelled frantically.

     The wheel was righted.  "I can't believe you'd fall for her…"

     Vash stuck out his lower lip with the stubborn air of a schoolboy.  "I didn't fall for anybody; things are too crucial for stuff like that!  I have to save everyone, and find a way to save Knives like Rem told me to.  I may be a warrior for Love and Peace, but paving a safe way for the rescue ships and preventing slaughter is number one on my list of stuff to…"

     Meryl let out another growl of frustration.  "Get in the back.  NOW."

     In fear for his life, Vash obeyed, crawling over the seat.  Beside Millie, he dried his tears and waited for Meryl's anger to subside.

     Astride a toma, Hal smiled to his companion, also an investigator from the Agency.  "Those girls know more than you'd think!  Now all we have to do is follow this new information – a man and a woman, young, tall, blonde, in cloaks, unarmed…Considering that the Stampede was in his prime over twenty years ago, the time of the July explosion…I see…Think of it!  We'll not only find out Vash's whereabouts, but we'll capture his kids while we're at it!"

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/fruitlessdesigns1.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	35. CHAPTER NINE: FRUITLESS DESIGNS

…Man, I love reviews…And they motivate me to write faster…

---------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER NINE:  FRUITLESS DESIGNS

     The second sun hovered above the horizon, casting an orange glaze over Gunsmoke.  A mini hummer purred over glittering sands.  Vash took in every detail, lost in the beauty of the moment and fully willing to forget an argument.

     He and Millie nearly flew from the back seat as the hummer halted and its driver sauntered away.  The two remaining passengers exchanged surprised glances and watched her plop onto her rear in the sand a ways off.

      "I guess we'll be camping out here," Vash murmured.

     He pitched the tents, and Millie cooked beans for dinner.  Meryl remained alone, stewing out there as the suns fully set and the granules of sand lost their heat.  Her body began to shiver, but was covered suddenly by a blanket.

     She turned to see Vash crouched behind her, holding out a hot cup of tea.  Sipping it gratefully, she said nothing.

      "Whatever you're mad about, I'm sorry," Vash murmured softly.

     Meryl rolled her eyes at his shoddy apology.  "I'm mad because you're…You're probably the most compassionate, lovable man alive, but you're a real bastard when it comes to love.  I mean romantic love, not Love and Peace love."

     Vash thought it best not to reply to that.

     And so Meryl continued, better able to reveal her feelings after time spent angry.  "I loved you.  I really, honestly loved you, like I never loved anyone before.  You didn't know that, did you..."

     He looked at her questioningly, only half certain of the past in this aspect.

      "I guessed not.  Maybe it was all in my head.  I figured, sure, regular people flirt and go on dates, and other people stay at home and avoid talking because there's a psychopath invalid upstairs," she recalled, chuckling bitterly at her mistake.  "After all we'd been through, I was sure you'd want to settle down with me.  I was sure of it!"

      "Meryl, I do care about you.  But I think maybe you felt so strongly BECAUSE OF all the things we went through," Vash offered.  "I've found that sometimes, high stress environments make people attach to each other too easily…"

      "You think that's what's the matter with me?  Well, maybe…But what makes you think that things are any different with her?  If that time you three spent together wasn't high stress, I can't imagine what it was!  I suppose the isolation may've screwed with your head, but she's not for you."

     Vash frowned.  "Now, don't bring her into this.  This is about you, Meryl.  Not Vanessa.  It's unhealthy to project your…"

      "Ick!" Meryl interrupted.  "Don't talk like a therapist, Vash, it's totally creepy.  I'm just trying to say that I think you're brooding, and Vanessa's the problem.  You should be clearing your mind and thinking out your next move, not developing a crush on the one person who has complicated matters worse than your brother!  That meddling bitch."

      "Stop talking so badly about her; she doesn't deserve it!" Vash responded, his cheeks brightening to an odd shade of pink.  "Geez, Meryl!  Lay off!  If you knew what she's been through…And she's selfless enough to throw aside her own freedom to accomplish my philosophy, whether she fully believes in it or not!  I owe her so much…"

     For a rare moment, Meryl bathed in the embarrassment of her own words.  Blinded by jealousy, she had overlooked the underlying sacrifice.  "I'm sorry," she murmured, reaching out to hug Vash.  "I'm sorry."

     Vash nodded in forgiveness, beginning to cry again.  He accepted the embrace as well, letting Meryl's delicate arms envelop him for the time.  They sat there for hours as Vash spilled his story in broken sentences.  In detail, he explained his feelings and worries, both for humanity and for Vanessa.  Dismal times were not unknown to him, but such close ties blurred his mind and thoughts.

     Knives obviously meant to keep Vanessa in the dark concerning all things.  She knew at this point that asking him questions was a fruitless endeavor.  The only answers Knives gave were vague or unspoken, and she began to doubt he had ever practiced fully satisfying a curiosity besides his own.  His silence was uncanny.

     And though Vanessa had so much experience with long bouts of complete stillness, they were whilst completely alone.  With a companion so sinister and mysterious, she was beyond frustrated.  The future as she knew it hung in the balance, and the pendulum of fate swayed in directions she couldn't guess.  What could be swimming in his mind?

     Worst of all was the anticipation of rape.  He clearly desired to possess her, but thus far his only acts were stares and smirks when she bathed.  Even when he held her at night and gripped her hand as they traveled, it seemed more out of comfort and control than lust.  He was attentive to her needs, making sure to rest and eat frequently.  Her fracture was checked daily, with gentle hands and an unfaltering patience.  Those same gentle hands would force her to fulfill his needs one day, she reminded herself.  The stress of this constant fear and danger, which was ever present yet without cue, was tearing into her sanity.  It stole hours of sleep and ate at her confidence exponentially.

      "Why am I here?  With you?" she whined, choosing to challenge his actions.  "I don't understand…What am I to you now?"

     Knives' thumb caressed the top of her hand as he held it firmly.  "You're my mate," he replied softly.  

     Vanessa expected such an answer, and with great courage she searched for harsh, blunt words to spur clarification from him.

      "You're not man enough," she chuckled to herself, testing him.

     Knives whirled to face her, surprised and furious, face beet red.  "I beg your pardon," he hissed.

     She resigned to keep her cool and press him a touch further.  "Oh, nothing…just wondering why you're keeping me with you for no reason.  I do you no good – this is just vanity on your part.  The vanity of a man who chooses a 'mate' and tugs her along in this stupid desert…And you're NOT EVEN MAN ENOUGH TO-"

     Knives suddenly flew at her.  He shoved her to the ground, knocking the wind from her, and crawled on top of her.

     Vanessa struggled with every ounce of energy she could muster, but there was no escaping this hold.  He had his left arm across her right shoulder and throat, and his other hand was pinning her left forearm to the sand.  His knees were at either side of her hips, his shins pressed hard into her thighs.  And her broken arm was tied tightly to her chest and was still too sore to move anyway.  Aside from the ability to wriggle her fingers and toes, she was paralyzed.  She strained against his hold, but the laws of physics were against her, and her muscles began to cramp from this sudden overuse.  Slowly, her attempts at thrashing abated and she pathetically guessed his next move.

     Her mind was abuzz with memories of those who had raped her before.  'But I thought it was different with Knives,' she thought bitterly.  'Somehow I didn't think he'd actually…I was just… Shit…Shit…This is it…'

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/fruitlessdesigns2.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	36. CHAPTER NINE: FRUITLESS DESIGNS (cont1...

How was that last cliffhanger?  I know, I know…but you knew I had to do it.

---------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER NINE:  FRUITLESS DESIGNS  (cont1)

     'I'm glad Mr. Vash and Meryl made up,' Millie thought happily to herself.  She sat alone in the backseat this afternoon, lost in her own thoughts as the other two carried on a conversation up front.  'I just wish we could get our mail.  It's been so long since I've heard from my family.  But Meryl said if we report to the Agency to have our mail and pay delivered, they'll know where we are and get mad at us for not looking for Mr. Vash.  So I'll just have to be patient and hope everything's alright.'

     She stopped to listen to a snippet of what Vash was talking about.  "…when the rescue ships from Earth get here…"

      'Oh, those ships; I can't wait till they get here!' Millie thought, ignoring them again.  'So long as Mr. Knives doesn't mess things up, we'll all get to go to Earth and live a happy life!  Oh, I wonder what Earth is like these days…mom said she heard Earth is all green and calm, and that it's only hot for a quarter of the year!  What's it going to be like the rest of the time?  If it's too cold, won't all the greenery die?  It's confusing to think about!  But the people there - I hope they're nicer than some of the people here.  I hope that on Earth there are no guns and no shootings, and lots of pudding.  And peaceful days.  And there should be lots of birds, and even some soft, fluffy, little animals.  And there's water all over the place, and I think that there are animals that live in it, too.'

     Millie frowned.  'But what about Mr. Vash?  If the people here are so afraid of him, for being a plant, what will the Earth people think?  Are they going to bully him for being different?  Or maybe on Earth there are more plants, and Mr. Vash and his brother and Miss Vanessa can all find some plant friends.  Maybe Mr. Knives will be happy once he's around lots more plants.  But…um…Mr. Knives probably isn't coming I guess…No, I'm pretty sure he wants to tear up the ships, so that'd be a bad idea.  It's too bad Mr. Knives has such a bad attitude, or everyone would be better off.  And we wouldn't have to be out in the desert all the time.

      'Gosh, Mr. Vash and Meryl have been real serious all morning…I wonder what they were talking about last night.  It's too bad we can't joke around a little like we usually do, but maybe we need to act serious to do our job better.  We've visited lots of places and talked to lots of people, but there's still a lot we could do.  Maybe we're getting lazy.  I hope we find Miss Vanessa and Mr. Knives soon.  The way Mr. Vash talks, I think Mr. Knives may do something terrible to her.  I sure hope not.  She was nice.

      'Yep, Mr. Vash seems awfully worried about her.  She and him probably have a lot in common, because they're both all scarred up and have trouble with people because they're different.  Those men that came after Miss Vanessa, after they all left - those men were really mean!  They said some real nasty things to me and Meryl when we told them she was gone!  I don't think Miss Vanessa did the things they talked about either.  But then, I know that most of the things they accuse Mr. Vash of aren't true either.  And what is true usually wasn't their fault.  

      'Poor Mr. Vash.  Poor Miss Vanessa.'

     Far away, in a callous bed of sand, Vanessa gritted her teeth and prepared herself to be hurt.

      'Telling a madman that he's 'not man enough' to do anything is an all around bad idea,' she decided distractedly.

     '…But really, maybe it's better to get it over with now, instead of fearing it all the time…I knew he'd do it eventually, so why not now…I knew this would happen, but still…' Vanessa thought bitterly.  'I don't want…Not now…'

     Pinning Vanessa to the ground firmly, Knives' face hovered an inch above hers.  "I'd love to show you how wrong you are," he whispered softly.  "But I agreed to wait.  I'll keep my word, and you'll keep yours," he demanded seriously, slowly letting her go and stepping to her side.   He held his hand out to her, to help her up, but she was in such a state of confusion that she didn't accept it.  "You don't remember?  Well, if you've so easily forgotten, I'll remind you.  We agreed that you'd bear my children when they're gone." 

      "Who?  The humans?"  She regained the ability to think clearly, mind spinning with a relief that melted nauseatingly into suspicion.  "Define 'gone'!"

      "When no humans live on this planet," he answered.

     Vanessa struggled to her feet, panting to regain her breath.  This was the first morsel of information Knives had given her to hint at his true plans, but the vagueness of it disappointed her fully.  "That's a poor definition, Knives!  I agreed, but I meant 'gone' as in having left peacefully on the ships without being slaughtered.  It's not fair for you to fill in whatever you meant instead!"

     Knives sighed, reaching for her hand.  "My interpretations are as valid as your own.  It's not my responsibility to explain details.  You agreed.  Perhaps you should've thought about classifying terms BEFORE you agreed.  Now, are you hurt?  I don't want to injure you," he asked, looking her up and down judiciously.

      "You hypocrite!  You've kept me in fear and submission, lowly and uninformed…At this point, I think I'd rather be beaten down physically than be psychologically ruined like this!  Damn it, this is torture!"  She ripped her hand from his, and tugged the hem of her skirt above her knee.  She stuck out her leg awkwardly, displaying a multitude of scars on naked flesh.  "See that?"  Letting the cloth fall again, she quickly tugged her cloak from her shoulder and pulled the edge of her dress down a bit.  More scars shown here, especially in the tender valley created by her collarbone, shoulder, and rib cage.  "See this?"  Noting the tiny grimace finally surfacing on his face, she pointed a finger at one particularly nasty burn scar above her right breast.  "And this one?  I thought THESE were torture.  I thought my life was devastated when I was getting these.  But they're NOTHING!  Not a thing.  I'd take a million more, to be rid of you.  But then, if all you care about is sexual reproduction for species' sake, who cares how miserable I am, huh?  Logic alone should tell you that one should be kind to one's mate, and bond with them; not treat them like crap!"  She stood, body tensed and sweating profusely, and breathed noisily through gritted teeth while she glared at him.

     His eyebrows furrowed and created a soft, round dent above the bridge of his nose.  "I've given you what you need…made no moves to harm you…Despite the wild rage you created in me, I kept myself from acting out against you!  You pushed me to humiliation and psychosis such that my sheer self-control alone saved your life!  I shouldn't have been so kind as I have, yet you growl like this?"

     Vanessa felt an immediate desire to slap him across his pristine face, but she fell to her knees in exhaustion.  A nervous, slightly neurotic chuckle escaped her lips.  "Knives, Knives, Knives…slicing my heart with your analytical knives, Knives, Knives…"

     Knives held her hair from her face as he studied her face intently.  "Drink some water, Vanessa.  I think you have heat stroke."  He uncapped a canteen and held it gingerly to her mouth, carefully tipping her head back with his free hand as he eased water past her lips.  "You've got to keep calm, for your health…"

     Wheezing still when he drew the canteen away, Vanessa stared up at him with groggy eyes and a sad smile.  "If only someone had taught you compassion and romance…we could've fallen in love…and then, everything would be perfect and peaceful, wouldn't it?"

     "Romance?  Like in those books?"  Knives' eyes were like perfectly sterile pools of water, the pupils drawn tightly shut, to pinpoints, in the glaring sun.  "The men in those stories treat the women terribly, as less than equals, and leave them helpless.  And the women are flighty types that swoon and faint when pressured.  That's rubbish, Vanessa.  You know I want to consider you my equal…I would treat you a thousand times better than in those ridiculous novels!"  He dropped to sit beside her, and wrapped his arms gently around her.  "I'm perfectly willing to forgive you for the past.  If you'd just come to your senses, you'd know that there's still a full possibility for genuine caring and understanding and…love…between us…"

     Vanessa let her head fall back.  It hit his shoulder and rolled to the side a bit.  At this angle, when she squinted, she could see his face.

      "And if you'd let it happen, things would be so much better," he continued, his voice a low, comforting tone.  "Things WOULD be perfect and peaceful then.  If…"  His voice trailed off as he dropped his chin to his collar.  Without unnatural assistance, Knives began to cry.

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/fruitlessdesigns3.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	37. CHAPTER NINE: FRUITLESS DESIGNS (cont2...

…Must…Read…Reviews…To…Live…

---------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER NINE:  FRUITLESS DESIGNS  (cont2)

     "Sure, I remember seein' a couple weirdos like that.  Just yesterday as a matter of fact," the young man replied helpfully.  "Hey, Missy, c'mere and tell these people 'bout those weirdos!"

     Hal and his co-worker Suze exchanged happy glances and turned to question the oncoming lady as well.  "Could you describe them, please?" Suze asked her.

      "Oh, yeah.  They were real tall, and seemed kind of skinny, and it was weird how light their hair was!  There was a woman and a man, and they seemed awful young for traveling like that.  But they weren't too friendly.  Larry at the hotel said they were curt as could be when they checked in.  And they only stayed in their room for a couple hours before heading back out of town.  Oh, and they bought some traveling stuff before they left."  Several young children circled about Missy as she spoke, and a small crowd began to gather.  Everyone seemed to have an interest in this tale.

      "It's downright vulgar if you ask me!" a middle aged woman added nosily.  "Couple of kids hang around just long enough to get their jollies and split.  Didn't even try to make it look like they were there to sleep."

     Hal jotted notes as they spoke, but grew more and more confused by the things they were saying.  "What makes you think they were a couple…er…in that way?  Didn't they look like siblings?"

      "Well, now, they looked alike, but holding hands like that and all…I don't know…"

     Mothers began to pull their children aside, covering their ears.

     Suze thanked them, but was hoping for more helpful details.  "Did anyone see where they came from, or where they were going?  And did they seem in good health?"

     A few people guessed directions, but one young man stepped forward with truly specific details.  "The girl's arm was all tied to her like it was broken.  Yep, it seemed broken.  And she was covered with scars, unlike the guy.  But the guy wasn't mean to her or anything, so I doubt it was his fault."

     Hal nodded as he wrote notes.

     Suze assumed a more suspicious expression.  "And you know that how?"

     The man shrugged.

      "Well, the others didn't see that, did you all?  See?  Because they were wearing thick cloaks…"

     A woman stepped beside the young man and slapped him.  "George, you pervert!"  Her face turned red, causing the man to try to slink off.  "Peeping again?  You should be ashamed of yourself!"

      "But they were shady characters!  I had to check them for weapons!"

     Suze asked what he'd found in this aspect.

      "Well, no, they didn't seem to have guns or nothing.  But they looked all serious, and there was a weird kind of shining on the man's hand, almost like glare on a knife.  But maybe my eyes were playing tricks on me.  Must've been, cause I also thought I saw pointy ears on the girl.  The weirdest thing had to be that they were so blonde and pretty-lookin'.  Not like folks you usually see," the man continued, before being slapped very hard on the face again.  "Honey, honestly, it wasn't like…"

      "Ma'am, don't be so hard on him," Suze suggested.  "He's been a lot of help."

     The woman glared back.  "Maybe to you, but it doesn't do us no good to have him peepin' in on people while they're bathin'."

     Walking back to their tomas, Hal shook his head, chuckling.  "Now THIS is some crazy shit.  I knew Vash the Stampede was insane, and I guess it makes sense that his kids would be nuts, too, but…Wow.  Brothers and sisters just shouldn't be familiar like that."

     Suze rolled her eyes as she pulled on her riding jacket.  "No need to dwell on that sort of thing, Hal.  Don't be a perv like that guy back there.  Concentrate on the important things, alright?  

      "This is starting to remind me of a stray case about ten years back.  There was a tall, blonde, pretty girl caught in North York with pointed ears.  Fits the description.  They said she cast spells on several villagers, causing them to die of inexplicable diseases.  Hey, don't laugh!  It's just the sort of dastardly, bizarre thing I would expect from the daughter of the Humanoid Typhoon!  And that Galvin incident occurred so far from Vash's sighting the previous afternoon…We'd seen the same sort of slaughter thanks to Vash himself in the past, but this last time…Why wouldn't his kids be involved?" she asked, incredulous at the evidence.

     Hal nodded.  "So you think these two caused it."

      "Well…The fact that the woman was scarred intrigues me.  Vash is covered with scars as well, according to the files.  And given that both Vash and this woman are scarred and dangerous, but without priors on the man, I think we have little to fear from the man.  Perhaps he is, in fact, keeping the woman from killing again!"

      "Jumping to conclusions again?" Hal commented.  "This is the first actual eyewitness report we've received, so we have to assume that they're both armed and dangerous.  This family is a heartless, evil breed of people.  They wouldn't be sloppy enough to let people see their weapons, so…" 

     Suze felt it useless to argue, and so she changed the subject.  "Don't you think we ought to question the people in March?  I've heard rumors that a couple similar to these two was staying with Vash as spotted, but no one's followed the lead!"

     Hal shook his head.  "It would be a waste of our time.  We know they wouldn't return to the place, crawling with suspicion as it is.  We need to follow their trail, now that we're hot on it!"  He prodded his toma into a faster stride, and led Suze into the desert.

     In the moonlight, Knives looked absolutely angelic.  He breathed softly, with little huffs at each exhale.  His cropped blonde hair fell over his forehead at the center, curled as softly as his eyelashes.  Suddenly breathing out in a sigh, he rolled from his back to his left side, facing Vanessa beside him.  He reached a strong, lithe arm towards her, where it rested limp against her stomach.

     Vanessa held her breath, but breathed relief when she realized he was still asleep.  She had moved slowly into a precise position, and didn't want to have to explain herself.

     Knives' left arm had been beneath her to begin with.  She had wriggled atop his arm until her back was at his forearm and elbow, and then eased his hand above her shoulder.  Finally in place, she turned her head to her left and set her face against his hand.  With her free hand, she softly spread his fingers apart and pressed her eyelids against his fingertips.  She held her breath and pulled his palm close to her face, so as to not tickle his palm with her breath.

     Slowly, she began to concentrate and coax the angel formation from her back.  She felt the scar throb, reminding her of how removing the fleshy lump had crippled her ability to fully form the weapon without assistance.  In a blinding flash of pain and feathers, the formation flew from her flesh, moving with an intangible ease into his left forearm.

     Once touching the core of his angel arm, the 'door' as he called it, his own formation sprouted.

     Knives' eyes flew open in surprise as he felt blades rising to the surface of his skin, about to slice outward from his arm and hand in a fraction of a second.

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/fruitlessdesigns4.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	38. CHAPTER NINE: FRUITLESS DESIGNS (cont3...

---------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER NINE:  FRUITLESS DESIGNS  (cont3)

     Waking suddenly from a most pleasant dream, Knives found that, to his dismay, Vanessa was summoning his angel arm.  He quickly willed the knives into feathers to prevent serious damage.

     However, the power of her formation in his arm was overwhelming, holding him to the effort against his wishes.  He couldn't resist the pull, as he fell into memories long past.  His life literally flashed before his eyes in the instant.

     Rem smiled happily all the time.  At Vash, and at Knives, but most sweetly at Vash.  Knives was ashamed of his brother's immaturity in all things, and annoyed by Rem's flawed courses of logic, but he still enjoyed the serene life they'd found on this ship.

     That is, until he and Vash wandered into the Tessla files.  In horror, they had hidden from Rem, and only after drama did they return to her arms.  But Knives was only acting as if he forgave her.  The insult was too dire and deep to ever be forgiven.

     Watching the SEEDS fall like rain, he argued and battled his brother.  Still overwhelmed with anger, he had let Vash storm off with a newly blackened eye.  But this was a move he came to regret.

     At first, he was glad to be rid of his obnoxious brother.  But loneliness and curiosity drove him to employ humans for the first time.  Once in a while, some human would stumble upon his isolated ship wreckage, but instead of killing them like usual, he decided to keep a few.  He would frighten the Hell out of them and send them off to locate Vash.  The few that returned were of little help, since once Knives traveled to the said location Vash was usually long gone.

     Through simple coincidence, Knives found that Vash was searching for the same scientist Knives needed for plant expertise.  There, in July, Knives forced Vash to angel arm.  And he was heartbroken when Vash turned the cannon on him.

     Most of his body unusable, Knives forced humans to help him into a plant for healing.  All this time, Knives stewed in pure angst.  It was during this healing that Legato and his infamous Gung-Ho Guns were dispatched against Vash.

     But after the Fifth Moon incident, Knives' heart had softened.  He was frustrated with his brother's pacifist mentality, and chose to cause him 'ultimate suffering' rather than death.  Over these trying years, Vash's philosophy scarcely held out.  In the end, Knives succumbed in a fight against Vash.  Just barely.

     Then began the captivity.

     Knives knew his brother enjoyed watching him slowly surrender to the infection.

     But Vanessa wandered in, and everything changed.

     Despite his disgust against humanity, he found her intriguing.  And when he'd found she was a plant child, he had tripped over himself in the excitement.  Immediately, he had begun to plan out their children's births alongside the destruction of the human race.  But getting her cooperation was more complicated than he'd hoped.

     After seeing her scars and overreacting to them, he began to ponder her angel weapon abilities, given the circumstances.  Assuming his actions led them to leave the town, he was taken happily to Vanessa's cave.  Surely there she would bent to his will.

     But she did not.

     And he was sure that after she realized her angel weapon's potential she would agree to join him.  

     But after the blood loss and tears, he came to find a side of himself that could force her into no more.  Knives decided on a more passive stance.

     Though she insisted on using her tricks against him, he allowed it.  He found only a little shame in crying to his brother, since it was making Vanessa closer to him.  This sort of gentle affection was a welcomed comfort, albeit foreign.  She would hold him for hours as they spoke, and even let him flip through that intriguing book of hers while they sat.

Thoroughly studying each of her books, he discovered how to interpret the markings and designs she had written into the pages of her book.  But this, like most things, he kept to himself.  Her book could be useful later, and so long as she refrained from using it to weaken him, he would allow her to keep it.

     Knives began to grow confident in himself and his relationship with Vanessa.  He had reluctantly allowed them to journey to March and intermingle with the disgusting human pests.  All was tolerated in hopes of Vanessa finally consummating their relationship.  Why wouldn't she want to perpetuate the race?

     Against all logic and duty, she rejected his advances.  In frustration, he had her agree to bear his children when humans are gone from Gunsmoke.  All seemed right again, and Knives was happy to await the day.  After all, he had lived for 150 years, and this wait would surely be less than a year.  He could feasibly accomplish both his goal to rid himself of the human race and create more plant children.

     But when he had come to the sickening realization that Vanessa's attachment to Vash could jeopardize his own chances at fatherhood, he had to stop the charade.  He promptly burned the book and took Vanessa into the desert.  After working out his anger on that puny village, he gained the patience to forgive Vanessa.  Since then, he had been wandering with her.

     They had to avoid Vash.  

     It was for Vanessa's own good.  And she couldn't know Knives' plans for the rescue ships, lest she come to harm in their defense.

     As quickly as it had begun, the memories ceased.

     Knives' formation fell back into his skin, and he found himself sweating and panting from the effort once more.  Using his angel arm energy drained him physically each time, but the only permanent injury was the addition of a few black hairs to his preexistent collection.  

     However, knowing that Vanessa had brought it this time…It was completely unexpected on his part.

     He snapped from his stupor to the equaled sounds of fatigue from beside him.  He turned, arm still pinned beneath her, and checked her for injury.  Struggling through blurred eyes, he attempted to focus on her delicate form.  Impatiently, he reached up with his free hand and yanked the tent material away.  

     There.  More light.  

     He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the additional illumination of five moons.  

     Her face was turned away and still nestled into his hand.  It felt warm.  Strangely warm.  And sticky.

     Carefully, he pulled his hand from her face, and felt the chill of air against moist skin.

     His heart skipped several beats and a gasp of horror escaped from deep within his chest.

     Atop the depressing pile of melancholy memories he was newly reminded of, he could add this new one.

     Everywhere his hand and arm had touched her was warm and wet.  Vanessa's face was covered in blood.  And he could feel more of the same against the full length of his left arm.

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/cornered1.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	39. CHAPTER TEN: CORNERED

---------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER TEN:  CORNERED

     "Vanessa…?"

     If he had listened to his own plaintive and feeble voice as he called her name, he would've blushed with embarrassment.

     But for now, Knives was choking with worry.  He was paralyzed, not knowing what to do next, wondering if he should slip his arm out from beneath her.  But this could injure her further, if her injuries were of particular types or severities. And since he had no clue as to those things, he simply lay there, propped upon his elbow, staring down at her in pure terror.

     Her face was turned away from him.  He craned his neck to see her.

     She was breathing funny.  He wasn't sure…but it sounded a little bubbly and irregular.  Suddenly, she coughed.  Some liquid splashed onto the blanket.  It was blood.

     Knives wanted to scream.  Couldn't she just tell him what was wrong?  Why wouldn't she just answer him, and tell him what to do?

      "Vanessa!"  The yell crackled in his throat like boiled glass.  He reached for her broken arm, and squeezed the splint.

     She screamed.

     He wanted to apologize, but the words wouldn't form.  He was just glad she COULD scream.

     As he eased his arm from beneath her, he uncapped a canteen one-handedly.  He knelt leaned against his arm, over her head.  Looking down at her, he poured the contents very slowly over her eyes and around her mouth.

     Vanessa moved her head slowly to face him, eyes shut under the blood.  She sputtered blood and water, but then swallowed a mouthful of them both.  "…uuuuhhhh…" she groaned softly.

      "Are you okay?" he asked ridiculously.  "What…Why the Hell did you…Where are you…Where does it hurt…?"

      "…Not enough…to…kill me…" she whispered without moving her mouth, since such movements would be too painful.  Her left arm lay limp beside her head.  There was a deep gash across her fingertips, where she had held his hand against her face, and one shorter cut across her palm.  

     Just by the amount of blood on these wounds, and the degree of coagulation, Knives guessed that he had been held in that angel arm formation with her for around a half hour.  But only for a split second had the blades been retracted, and, it seemed, not long enough to carve her fatally.  Luckily, he had formed feathers in the blades' place before that occurred.

     Tears began to fall from the edges of her eyes, making little rivers in the blood.  "…Want…to…sit…up…"

     Knives, stunned and breathless, helped her into a sitting position.

     Muffled groans of pain slipped from her throat.  She slid her legs to her side and held the pose stiffly.  "…if you…(cough)…don't stitch me…up…bleeding may not…stop…"  Reluctantly, she began to move her mouth slightly when she spoke, wishing she could grimace from the pain of it.  "Medical kit in bottom my bag," she muttered.  "Alcohol sterilize, then sutures."

     Fear burned to anger.  "What was this all about?  Pulling a stunt like that, what were you thinking!?" he roared.

      "Knives, clean and suture…then bitch."

     His head was spinning.  "You…you wanted to kill yourself…"

     She sat silent.

     The reality hit Knives in the pit of his stomach.  'So she was,' he decided.  'Why else would she have done this?'

      "Were you committing suicide?  Like this?  If you killed yourself, you know I'd kill everyone!  I would!  And…And…I'd hunt down Vash and I'd…torture him before he'd die!  This is worse than irresponsible of you, Vanessa!  Imagine if you had succeeded!"

     Vanessa made no move to reply.  She sat stoic, happy that he was unaware of the memory transfer.  Her only mistake was misjudging Knives' reaction time – she had hoped he'd formed the harmless feathers earlier.

     Using up another canteen, Knives washed the stickiness from his bloody arm and removed his shirt before retrieving her first aid supplies.  Needing more light than the five moons could provide, he set up a fire behind her.

     Vanessa sat still as he eased the dress from her shoulders a bit.  The V-shaped neckline at the back was cut near the middle.  The diagonal also indicated a longer slice on her flesh.  

     There were six total cuts at her back, all seeming to radiate in a general diagonal from her square, 'amputation' scar.  Knives carefully touched her skin as he worked, noticing one especially deep incision across her upper left back.  Here, a knife had sliced easily into bone.  Her left shoulder blade was sliced half-through in the middle.  In the same path, two ribs were cut through completely and three more had been partially incised.  Everywhere she was hurt, the incisions were more than medically precise.

     Knives winced as he felt the damage, fingers within incisions.  The slits of skin revealed layers of muscle, fat, and bone, which rang surreal in his mind as sights one only sees in slaughtered livestock.

     He felt nauseous.  These wounds were of the same brand of his past victims, but had been human and didn't matter.  He had to blink hard and clear his mind for a moment in order to continue.

     With still more water, he used rags torn from the shirt to blot the blood from her body.  He worked upwards in the general diagonal, toward her shoulder, snaking around her neck.

      "No," she snapped in a muffled voice.  "Face is less important.  The rest first."

     He obeyed, trusting her medical expertise.  Pulling out the alcohol, he began to sterilize in preparation for stitches.  Once he stitched her up, she would heal quickly.  'Good as new,' Knives thought reassuringly to himself.

     Concentrating like a surgeon, Knives swiftly and precisely sewed together the valleys of flesh.  The skin yielded to the needle and formed tiny ridges along the wire.  Time passed indifferently as he completed his tasks, closing the wounds.

     Sighing, he leaned back.  The firelight flickered off the naked flesh of her back, dancing along the new, thin lines now defined by wire.  'These won't scar badly,' he thought optimistically.

      "I'm going to help you turn and face the fire.  I need the light to see your face," he indicated, hands on her shoulders.

     She allowed him to pivot her, but again gave a murmured order.  "Just one beside mouth.  No more water.  Low as is."

     Knives nodded, but didn't see the whites of her eyes.  "Okay," he replied, now knowing that she couldn't view his gestures.  He began to blot alcohol on the gash at her cheek.  It was a 4-inch long diagonal wound, from the left bottom of her chin to the corner of her eye.  

The stitches were tiniest here, and so it took Knives a full two hours to finish.  "It's not the only one on your face, is it," he asked soberly once completed.  "Let me wash the blood from your eyes so you can see, at least…"

     Vanessa subtly moved her head side to side.  "We need the water for travel."

     Knives huffed, frustrated, and sat back on his heels.  "Damn it, your face is a mess.  If someone in a town saw you like this…I'd almost have to clear out the humans."  He reached for another canteen, one of only four left full.

      "No."

     He looked up questioningly.

      "I need real doctor.  Now."

     Before he could call the idea absurd, she shot down his confidence with her muffled words.

      "Eyes sliced.  Delicate surgery or I'm blind."  She lifted her face, letting the light play off the dried blood and tears.  

     Once he brushed the matted hair away, he saw the damage.  She had kept her eyelids still all this time, and dried blood and mucus now sealed her eyelashes tightly together.  And indeed, there were cuts on her eyelids, two at her right and one on the left.  Each was marked by a tiny split in the eyelid, caused by the tension over the eye.  Knives didn't doubt that his blades had gone further, slicing with a fine precision unmatched by any scalpel.  "You can walk?  Good.  Let's go."

      "Can't this thing go any faster?" Vash yelled over the roar of the engine, standing on his seat and leaning dangerously over the windshield.  He held himself steady with one hand and pointed stiffly into the dark distance with the other.

      "This is ridiculously dangerous!"  Relenting, Meryl gritted her teeth angrily and stepped harder on the gas pedal.  "You'd better be right about this, waking me up in the middle of the night…With no coffee…" she grumbled.

      "Mr. Vash, if you knew where they were all along, why didn't you tell us before?" Millie asked, terribly confused.

      "I didn't!" he replied, gazing intently into the void.  "But this feeling…It means he's used his…Come on!  This direction!  Hurry, hurry!"  

     Vash kept the real mystery to himself:  that never before had the feeling lasted so long.  He knew his brother had just used his angel arm, and the only thing stronger than his fear of the possible massacre was his determination to end any and all suffering.  And to save Vanessa.****

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/cornered2.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	40. CHAPTER TEN: CORNERED (cont1)

I know FF.net has issues occasionally, but please review if possible.  I love it when you do…

---------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER TEN:  CORNERED  (cont1)

    Only by the growing heat could Vanessa tell that it was sunrise.  She was hidden completely by her cloak, both arms now tied to her chest and bloodied face lowered within a hood.

    Knives helped her along, arm wrapped about her waist.  She had lost a lot of blood, so it wasn't easy to hold her up.  Her legs hardly wanted to move through this endless sand.

    Vanessa wasn't his only burden now.  He carried both of their packs now, since she was fully unable to carry supplies at this point.  They had even been forced to leave most of their campsite behind, for emergency's sake.

    He gritted his teeth, wishing to find words of reassurance from her, that things would be okay soon.  But he knew it hurt her to speak, and kept quiet, drudging along in a solemn march.  Hopefully they would reach May before sunset, when they would surely be without water and deadly tired.

    In May there would be a hospital.

    Knives would find someone there to heal Vanessa.  And if he could not…Well, he wouldn't let himself think of that; because if her wounds went untreated, and she went blind, it would crush him.  He couldn't forgive himself for causing that.

    Vanessa was aware of his worry, and kept silent.  She hoped to use his concern against him, to weaken his senses and rain doubt upon all his plans.  

    In this time of contemplation, her mind was fixed on the memory transfer.  Carefully, she reviewed what she had seen and learned.

    The majority of his life was unimportant at the moment, and so she disregarded all memories from his birth to his meeting her.  There were questions she needed answered.  These concerned his view of Vanessa and his realizations of her action, and his plans regarding the extinction of the human race and the rescue ships.

    Her book had been burnt because of many reasons.  Knives knew what the pages meant, and didn't want her to use spells against him anymore.  He also couldn't find any pages to use for his purposes.  And the most powerful, underlying motivation was that he needed an outlet for his anger, much the same as he ended up committing against the unaware village of Galvin.

    Knives clearly had many life moments of extreme anger, but they had been caused by hatred for humans.  When he had felt anger towards Vash, it was due to pain inflicted and frustration.  Vash had betrayed him many times; first in loving the humans, second in rejecting his brother's plans, and third in physically harming Knives himself.  However, now Knives bolstered a far more confused sort of anger for Vash, one best described as disappointment.  He had forgiven Vash for so many, many things, yet Vash had the audacity to take her affections away from him…The affections Vanessa had previously directed only to Knives.  

    How did he know about them?  Actually, he didn't.  Not really.  He knew that sometimes, she had been alone with Vash, and that after these rare, brief moments Vanessa had seemed somehow distant.

    He knew that Vash and Vanessa were working together to sway him from his goals.  That was clear from day one, since Vash would only have brought her to talk at his bedside if it would be promote the stubborn pacifist philosophy.  She was only trying to fulfill that pact she must've made with Vash – to turn the 'evil' twin brother into a respectable citizen.  Let her think that Knives listened.  Let her think that Knives could change.

    Complicating matters was the knowledge that Vash might wish to take Vanessa from him.  After all, Vash was a lone plant like himself, and surely would want to reproduce as well.  This was simple logic.

    And as time passed, Knives began to feel that there were things Vanessa told Vash which she did not tell him.  She had never revealed to Knives her past – the origins of her scars, instances with humans, etc.  He saw no fault in her apparent want to keep many private things to herself, but that she would tell Vash and not him…

    This may have caused Knives anger, but he remained content.  It was tolerable; she could tell Vash these things that she told no one else.  These things were, after all, not the stories Knives wanted to hear; tales of pain, suffering, and despair.  'Let her associate her past with Vash, what with his scars and sentimentalism.  That aside, she will come to know me with a clearer mind and more optimistic outlook,' he told himself.  He was confident in his position as her mate; he was clearly the best choice for her, between himself and his brother.  How damaged, mentally and physically, was Vash; and yet how healthy, intact, logical, and fully sane was Knives.  Of course she would choose him over that armless buffoon.

    Still, there seemed to be something in Vash that sparked Vanessa's interest.  Knives felt it ridiculous to spy on her, to assure her fidelity.  Only occasionally did a clue of a facial expression or gesture meet his eye.  Thus, he only possessed hints and assumptions, which had built over time and peaked that night in March.  

    Knives had awoken from his deep, drunken stupor with an immediate, innate awareness of his brother.  He knew that this wasn't angel arm related.  He didn't actually know what it was, but it had to do with Vash, and Vanessa wasn't there.

    Giving her the benefit of a doubt, Knives waited until she returned to completely judge her.  But things seemed shady, and her entrance lit the rage within him.  Jealousy, heartbreak, betrayal…all things Knives had felt before, but in lesser ways.  He couldn't let control slip from his hands any longer.  Vanessa had to stay with Knives at all times now, and Vash must be left unaware of their location.  This way, Knives could assure his place as her mate, and keep his brother from persuading her in any way.

    Once alone with her in the desert, Knives began to reflect on his relationship with Vanessa.  He came to realize that she was more than a future mate – she was a companion.  She was important, not only for her sexual organs and fertility.  Vanessa was a spirited girl, wise from years of struggle yet fully able to fall to her knees in tears for the filthy humans she didn't know.  Knives admired her courage in the face of overwhelming odds.  She didn't have a chance against him, yet still she challenged his plans and spoke rudely to him.  Fear was as obvious in her eyes as the blue green color they displayed, and still she denied his rights as a plant.  Some nights in the moonlight or firelight, he would stare at her; just stare.  He took in every detail of her - every movement of her long, soft hair, and every awkward shift of her pose.  Before he knew it, he was wishing that those turquoise eyes would light up with actual happiness for him.  When they did not, his heart sunk, and he felt no will to harm her.  She was his weakness, evidently.

    The other night, when he pinned her, his emotions fell from check.  He had felt her struggle, and it meant she didn't want him.  When the struggling stopped, it proved that she was only in this covenant as a duty.  Knives found that even when he made it clear that he would not be raping her, she would not drop her objections.  She told him how awful she felt she was being treated, and it highlighted that he wanted to give her everything and yet didn't know enough about affection to present things adequately.  If she wanted romance, he thought perhaps he could try it, but it was a ridiculous option.  As much as he hated such silly human terms, he did want 'love' between he and Vanessa.  He had wept in anguish for nearly an hour, because he knew it would take many years until she could feel that.

     Knives wanted Vanessa to love him soon.  He craved it like a leper pines for a cure; anticipated it as a child prays for Christmas presents.

    Swimming in that sea of images and yearnings, Vanessa stumbled upon a vivid dream of his.  He envisioned himself in a lush, jungle Eden, surrounded by their happy plant children of various ages.  In a throne of every possible color and species of flower, Vanessa sat, regal as a queen. 

    And the happy kingdom of his dreams, as Vanessa was now unpleasantly aware, was to be built on the extinction of all humans.  Knives still fully intended to 'cut the sinners right out of the sky,' and Vanessa alone knew the vital details of his plans.

     ****

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/cornered3.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	41. CHAPTER TEN: CORNERED (cont2)

---------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER TEN:  CORNERED  (cont2)

     "Put me down," Vanessa whispered hoarsely.

     Half relieved, half concerned, Knives obeyed.  He was about to collapse from the weight of the two backpacks and a weakened companion.  And he was terribly thirsty.  Slowly and carefully, he set her on her bare feet in the sand.  They were mere minutes away from May city, and he guessed that she knew it from the sounds of bustling humans.  "You think you can walk now?  I don't want to see you faint again…"

      "Then I won't," she murmured.  "We have to be calm, try not to rouse suspicion.  Hospital is in center of May.  Have to get there.  No incidents.  No violence."

      "It would be simpler to-"

      "No, bad Knives," she interrupted, proving subtly that his concern allowed impudent dialogue to slip by unchallenged.  "Be sensible.  Agreed?"

      "Agreed.  But if things…For now, I'll restrain myself.  For now."  He frowned, tugging the edges of her cloak over her more completely.  They walked, his arm about her waist once more, onto the crowded city streets.'

     In the meantime, Vanessa continued to remind herself of the most horrible memories she could muster – Vash's, Knives', and her own.  The constant flow of tears wetted her eyes and eased the dry discomfort caused by the new eyelid openings.  This way she could keep her eyes soaking in the natural saline solution, preserving whatever of her eyes that she could.

     Despite the sadness these memories triggered, Vanessa was actually quite happy.  After all, holding Knives to that angel arm formation for so long had to have given Vash a clue of their whereabouts.  She had faith in Vash, whom she would surely need to save the rescue ships.

      "Stop here!"

     Meryl hit the brakes.  Sand flew as the mini hummer settled to a still purr under an afternoon sky.

      "I see something up ahead," Vash murmured, jumping from the vehicle.  "Can you guys locate the position on the map?"

     Millie peered at him from the edge of the said map.  "Um…yes, Mr. Vash.  But it's going to take a while, since we drove so far in the dark."

     Vash nodded solemnly.  "As soon as you figure it out, I want you to go straight to the nearest sand steamer station and ride it far away from here.  Don't come any closer to that place over there," he ordered, pointing at a barely visible brown dot in the distance.

      "You think he's over there?" Meryl asked in a hushed tone.

      "I think so.  You and Millie need to do as promised, and leave now.  And get on those ships once they're here."

     Meryl crossed her arms angrily.  "Aw, come on, Vash!  This isn't right.  You don't even know that we're close!  I only promised to leave when I KNOW he's nearby."

     Vash walked to her side of the hummer and opened his arms to offer a parting hug.  "Thank you for all you've done for me.  Both of you.  I'm so sorry it couldn't have been more fun.  But it's goodbye for now."  He was trying to hide his fear and sadness beneath the usual goofy grin.

     Leaning out to him, Meryl hugged him tight.  "I hate you for this," she whispered desolately, "always leaving me; always going off to die."

      "That's not what I need to hear," he replied, chuckling.  "Millions of lives depend on me now.  I need some confidence so I won't end up letting them down!"

      "You're so full of it," she murmured, beginning to choke up.

      "Oh, Mr. Vash!  Promise we'll see you again!" Millie requested emotionally, suddenly gripping him in a fierce hug.

     Vash gasped, worming his way out of her rib-squeezing embrace.  "I can't promise that, Millie.  But I'll try!"  He stepped away from them, smiling and waving.  "You both promise you'll do just what I say, right?  Please?"

     They reluctantly nodded, and waved enthusiastically as he stepped towards that little dot on the horizon.

     Striding towards the future, Vash's hand rested nervously against his holster.  He would almost certainly have to utilize his angel arm in place of the gun, but this familiar silver Colt gave him a strange sort of conviction.  As everyone on Gunsmoke was well aware, Vash the Stampede was the best gunslinger in the history of man.

     Even as he neared this apparent campsite, he couldn't see figures.  Nevertheless, this could be a trap, so he kept his cool and walked steadily.

     This was the spot where Knives had angel armed.  Vash knew it.  For whatever reason, Knives had held it for a full half hour before the feeling faded.  For the last 12 hours, Vash had pointed in the ghost direction of his senses, but by now, it seemed his brother and Vanessa were long gone.

     Vash began to run, collapsing on his knees before a mess of blankets and ripped cloth.  Red…red stained cloth, drying to a rusty stiffness in the sun, causing his stomach to turn.

     Whose blood?  He couldn't tell.  But there were no bodies, and no pieces of a body.  And the smoky remnants of a bonfire were undisturbed.

     He lifted a less bloody blanket to his nose.  Somehow, it smelled like Vanessa.  Vash couldn't have sensed Vanessa's angel weapon, he could only perceive Knives'.  That feeling proved that Knives was here, with Vanessa.  With no sign of a third party, Vash had to assume that one of the two had been injured.

     Vash stood and surveyed the surrounding sands.  The blood was centralized here on the blankets; surely they weren't traveling with open wounds.  Knives' shirt was torn and bloody, both in slits at the left sleeve and along the hem in strips.  So they had bandaged the wound, or wounds…

     Hoping to leave no clue undiscovered, Vash combed the grounds, looking for any signs of struggle.  The one thing he hoped not to discover was a grave.

     This was just odd – not like his brother at all.  'Knives wouldn't leave all of this behind, out in the open.  That fire had been left burning, a beacon to anyone within sight.  Every detail pointed to haste, a desperate emergency of some sort, surely linked to the blood.  It wasn't really enough blood lost to kill a person, but this was a serious injury nonetheless.  They must've had sufficient supplies to mend the wounds for traveling, but the haste…What could it mean?' Vash wondered, a whine in his mind.  'Oh, Vanessa…are you okay?'

     Feeling that past confidence fade away, he hurried to find his position on his map.  There were so many towns nearby.  So many options.  Would they head towards a village?  A town?  Or…May city?  He couldn't know.  And he wasn't willing to guess.  

      "What the heck are you going to do now, Vash?" he asked himself, climbing to his feet.  His eyes squinted in the sunlight, scanning all horizons.  "They're out there somewhere…rushing to some goal…injured somehow and trying to get somewhere.  Where would they go in such a hurry?  What do they need…help?  Would Knives seek help from humans?  Is he in such trouble that he can't solve it on his own?  What happened here, to turn his cool demeanor into panic?"

     Perfect blades must have cut that left sleeve.  His shirt was the most striking detail, because it proved more than the mere fact that the angel arm had been retracted.  It showed an intent to injure, and was soaked in the blood of result.  'Why would Knives put his arm so close to get this bloody?  Was it Knives' blood?  Vanessa's?  Why would Knives hold the formation for so long, without killing?  Surely no one died here; there's not enough blood.  Perhaps he meant to hurt her…maybe this was torture.   Why would Knives carve Vanessa up?  Wasn't she important to him?'

     Vash shook his head, ignorant of the tears.  "It doesn't make sense!  How am I supposed to figure this out, without knowing where they went?  If I head in the wrong direction, I'll lose them for good…and if I don't act..."

     He sat in the sand, hugging his backpack.  'But I can't bring myself to act,' he thought honestly to himself.  'So now I'm going to have to sit here and worry until some bright idea hits me. Knives, you've won again.'****

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/cornered4.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	42. CHAPTER TEN: CORNERED (cont3)

Let me know y'all are still with me!  Please review!  Love it when you do!

---------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER TEN:  CORNERED  (cont3)

     Vanessa tripped and nearly fell on a rock in the road, but Knives caught her.  He was trying to spot the irregularities around her.  That one he'd missed.  

      "Pothole five paces ahead," he whispered, watching as she managed that one.

     She had only been blind for a half day.  Adjusting to the change, to the new vulnerability and balance, was far more difficult than one would imagine.  "Knives," she whispered, turning to his voice.  "Here's the plan.  I'll do talking.  Don't draw attention.  Kay?"  This said, her lips drew together tightly.  Each syllable tugged at the gashes in her cheek and chin.  Her body was strained to the limit, considering the constant throbbing pain of each wound, stitched or no.  The throbbing in her eyes was causing a migraine.  "…There yet?" she sighed.

     Knives huffed.  "I don't know."

      "Describe buildings.  I know."

      "Um…there's a big green restaurant on the left, a woman's clothing store across the street.  A big clock on a bank."

      "End of street, playground?"

     He looked around.  Down the side road was a collection of swings and slides.  "Okay," he muttered, easing her into a pivot and guiding her down a side street.

      "Left at playground.  Then, second right.  Hospital there."

     Knives patiently led her, trying to keep his eyes from the hotels and restaurants around them.  He was so tired and hungry, and he hated every moment of keeping these wants to himself.

      "Sign says Emergency Only," she whispered as they neared the large, white building.  "That door.  And don't speak.  Let me."

     He grumbled something under his breath, and led her to the swinging door.  Slowly, he eased her inside without her tripping again.  Inside were three rows of seats, many filled with humans.  Humans, filthy, disgusting humans.  Knives began to feel claustrophobic, his anger building.

     Vanessa felt his arm tighten about her waist.  "Lead me to desk.  Now," she demanded in a near-hiss.

     His feet shuffled forward, and he positioned her just before the desk.

     The nurse looked up inquisitively.  Before her was a tall, thin, cloaked figure with no apparent face, and bare feet, and a tall blonde man who was giving the dirtiest look she could imagine.  "Er…Can I…um…"

      "Is an ophthalmologist in?" Vanessa asked, eyes tearing up from the pain of the words.

     The woman's gaze couldn't leave Knives.  'Who is this gorgeous guy, and what the Hell's his damn problem!?' she was wondering.

      "It's…I need one…please?" Vanessa urged after the pause.

     The nurse wrenched herself from thought and addressed the covered figure.  "Well, we do, but he's home for the day.  Our regular hours are over, they're posted on the far wall," she indicated, pointing.  "You can make an appointment for tomorrow."

      "Where does he live?  I'll fetch him myself," Knives demanded in a cruel voice.  "If-"

     Vanessa cut him off before things could get ugly.  "Please, Miss, could you ask him in?  It's an emergency," she interrupted, tossing her head back enough that her face alone could be seen inside the hood.  She heard a gasp and a chair scooting back.

      "Jose, call Dr. Phorbes!  Quick!  And get a gurney!  What's your name, dear?"

      "Vanessa.  I'd rather walk," Vanessa called out.  "And he has to follow."

     The nurse looked at Knives, who seemed slightly less angry.  "Well, he'll have to wait, it's…"

      "Family only?  He's my brother," Vanessa lied, fully familiar with both the hospital rules and Knives' determination.  "Please."

     Nodding, the nurse reached for Vanessa's hand.  "Um, if you could give me your hand, I'll help you…"

      "I can lead her," Knives growled, following the nurse to an empty room.

      "Darling, I need to get you into a hospital gown," she instructed, reaching to take Vanessa's cloak.

     Knives looked on the defense, and narrowed his eyes protectively.

      "Give us a moment.  Privacy," Vanessa whispered to him.

     The grip on her waist was loosened, and she breathed relief when his touch finally left her.

     While Knives turned and stared at a wall, the nurse took Vanessa's cloak from her and gasped again.  "Your…your ears…"

      "Deformed at birth," she responded.

      "Oh…Okay…Oh, dear Lord!" the nurse murmured as she began to unwind the wrappings that held Vanessa's arms to her chest.

      "Right arm broken, near healed.  Open wounds on left hand, face.  Sewn wounds on back, shoulder, neck, chin," Vanessa listed softly, hoping to take the surprises from this event.  She wanted to keep everything calm, lest Knives become angry.

     As the nurse unwound all of Vanessa's wrappings and slipped her dress from her, she held in her horror.  "Um, what exactly happened to you, Miss?"

      "Fell against twisted, sharp metal at wreckage site; broke arm in fall month ago.  Hurts to talk.  Eyes worst."

      "Oh, gosh, I'm sorry, darling," the nurse apologized incredulously, easing Vanessa's aching arms into the backless gown.  "You know, whoever made these sutures did an awfully good job!  Dr. Phorbes will be here any moment, and we'll examine your eyes.  For now, I'm going to bring in another nurse to assist in cleaning your wounds and washing out your eyes."

     Vanessa nodded.

      "Want a pain killer?"

     Vanessa shook her head.

     Knives stepped to her and lifted her onto the bed.

      "You'll need to sit; don't lean back against it, okay?"

     Nodding, Vanessa listened for the nurse to leave.  Once they were alone, Vanessa turned her head in Knives' direction.  "See?  Things will be fine.  No violence."

      "She saw your ears, and the scars…This is going to be trouble," Knives growled anxiously.

      "Doesn't matter," Vanessa whispered back.  "They'll fix me before anyone tries to break me.  Hospitals are safest."

     The nurses returned, and Knives stood back as they washed.  He hated the awe and distress he saw in their expressions, but was glad to see Vanessa's face once more.  The crusted blood now removed, he could make out her features again, though interrupted by the occasional red slit in the skin.  His mind easing some, he found a chair aside her bed and sat, dropping the heavy backpacks to the floor.  Exhausted, he was soon asleep.

     Vanessa assumed he was, since he made no protest when the I.V. was inserted into her left arm.  "May I have paper, pencil?" she whispered.  "Want to talk, but hurts to."  After they were brought, she took the items in her right hand, which was now somewhat usable.

      "Now what's this all about," a deep, male voice mumbled, entering the room.

      "Dr. Phorbes, this young woman just came in; she's covered with fine incision wounds, and her eyes are cut."

      "Cause?"

      "Metal edges at a wreckage, she says.  And there's an old fracture at the right humerus.  Incisions are from center back to left face and eyes.  And there's deformed ears and hundreds of old scars," the nurse whispered, unaware that Vanessa's hearing was strong.

     Dr. Phorbes approached the bed and assessed the injuries, scribbling on a notepad as he went.  He carefully pulled her eyelids up and asked her to roll her eyes around in the sockets.   "Well, Miss Vanessa…You've gotten into quite a pickle!  But it's nothing we can't handle.  Those stitches are perfect, and your ribs will heal on their own.  Your eyes, on the other hand…"

     Vanessa lifted the paper, onto which she had written something.  It read, 'May I stay here long as possible?  And let me tell brother diagnoses.  He'd be violent to anyone else.  Is harmless unless provoked.'

      "Okay, Miss Vanessa.  As it is, you'll be hospitalized for at least ten days.  Now, as I was saying, we can finish suturing your open wounds, and we'll go into surgery to repair your eyelids.  Damage to the eyes is unclear at this point – I see no injury to the iris or pupil," he continued, lifting her eyelids again to shine a pocket light into her eyes.  "Look up.  Down.  There they are…You must've been looking down when this happened.  The cuts are in the upper cornea, just past the iris.  Damn, that must've been sharp metal – these cuts are finer than my scalpels!  Leave it to lost technology…Anyhow, we'll enlist medicinal eyedrops for the scratched corneas.  I can't promise anything now, but you may regain your sight.  There's still a chance for loss of sight, or even blindness.  I don't want to get your hopes up."

     Vanessa nodded, smiling slightly.  She held up another page.  'Thank you.  But please, no pain meds now.  And we're starved – could someone get us food?  Will pay."

     The doctor scratched his balding scalp.  "Yes, we'll do what you've asked.  I'll send someone out for meals.  Now you just sit back and get some rest.  Nurse Shawna will stitch up those nasty cuts, and we'll use the eyedrops on the hour, every hour.  I'll perform the surgery in an hour.  Alright?"

     She forced another weak smile.  Now all she had to do was wait for Vash, and find a moment to steal a syringe or pill of sedative.  Once Vash got there, Vanessa could slip it to Knives, weakening him enough for Vash to restrain him and save the ships.   She just hoped it wouldn't take too long for Vash to arrive.  Surely last night's thirty minute angel arm formation would be sufficient to lead Vash to them.****

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/ufo1.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	43. CHAPTER ELEVEN: BELIEVE IN UFOs

Vash doesn't always burst in to save the day, or does he....  What do you think?

  Write a review and tell me!  (surely there's more than one or two of ya out there…)

---------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER ELEVEN:  BELIEVE IN UFOs

     "Aw, it's almost sunset already, Suze!  Can't we just get to sleep?" Hal whined.  "You're such a workaholic, it's going to kill me!"

     Suze sighed.  "You're the one with the bright idea about Vash having kids.  So far, nothing.  But I have a good feeling about May.  I really think we may get some info here!"

      "Fine.  Quick.  Then we get dinner and sleep."

     Suze nodded, dismounting from her toma.  She tied it and waited for Hal to retrieve his notepad before beginning their questioning routine.

      "Tall cloaked blondes?  Well, my cousin across town saw people like that earlier.  Here's her address."

      "Oh, my cousin sent you?  Yeah, I saw those people.  Vash's kids?  You don't say!"

      "Where they went?  No, except that they looked lost before they got to that playground over there."

      "The one I couldn't see…was a girl?  That kind of makes sense, the way they were standing."

      "Last I saw, they went towards the hospital.  Looked real tired and stuff, so maybe they were sick.  I don't know really."

      "From the Agency?  Is this about the Stampede?  His kids!  Oh, my!"

      "I don't think they've left the hospital.  Is that really fair, following them in there?  Isn't it Sanctuary?  Oh, that's church?  Oh, well, then I suppose…"

      "Give 'em Hell, Mr. Insurance Man!"

      "Yeah, they're still there.  Checked in as brother and sister, but the sister's the only one that's hurt.  Really nasty, I hear."

     Twenty-seven eye witnesses later, Suze and Hal were bursting with excitement.  They rushed back to their tomas to retrieve weaponry.

      "Two tickets to New Dakota, please."  Meryl slid 80$$ under the ticket booth window, and sighed, looking up at the massive sand steamer.  She walked slowly back to Millie, her feet dragging along as though ever fiber of her being was unwilling to leave Vash alone.  She wanted to jump back in that mini hummer and speed back to Vash.  After all, maybe he was hurt, or needed a ride from a successful battle.  Or maybe he was wrong about the whole stupid thing, and was out there moping in the middle of nowhere.

     Millie saved her a seat in the station.  "So that really was goodbye, huh, Meryl."

     Meryl nodded.  "For now at least."

      "I hope we see Mr. Vash again soon."

      "Vash the Stampede!?" a voice yelled across the room.

     Meryl looked up, alarmed.  Surely they couldn't hear her talking so far away.

      "No, his kids!  A girl and a man, blonde and evil just like their pop!  Agency sent people out here, saying they're awful dangerous.  Me and my family are lucky we got tickets – you all are sure to run out soon!"

      "We gotta up the prices then!  His kids, huh?  Why'd they have to attack such a peaceful city?  What a mess…"

      "Meryl…" Millie whined, frightened.

      "I know, Millie.  This is bad."

     Nurse Ulrich unwound the bandages from Vanessa's newly stitched eyes.  "Now lean back; this'll sting."

     Vanessa tipped her head back obligingly, cringing as a drop hit her searing flesh.

      "There now.  Wasn't too bad," he murmured, grabbing a new roll of gauze to cover her swollen eyes.

      "…Vash the Stampede…" a far off voice said.

     Showing no surprise in her face, Vanessa's heart fluttered.  She listened closer to the muffled conversation she wished desperately to catch.

      "…Agency…investigating…Humanoid Typhoon…here in May…sighted…"

     A door shut and the words became too quiet to decipher.

     Vanessa began to scribble messily on her paper, waiting until the nurse was about to leave to hand the page to him.  'Pain killer, please.  Kettle tea also, please.'

      "Didn't they give you some after surgery?" the nurse mumbled impatiently.

     She shook her head, adding an expression of pain to her features.

      "If it hurts so badly, you need an intravenous..."

     In an expression of disgust to disagree, Vanessa expressed her preference.  She pointed to her mouth.  "Pill, please."

      "Okay.  Back in a sec."  Frowning, he sauntered from the room.  He hated the way that freaky blonde guy glared at everybody.

     Vanessa pulled the pill from the little cup Nurse Ulrich just handed her.  She set it on the little table over her bed and carefully began to feel the indentations with her finger.

      "C'mon, I have to watch you take it," he insisted.

     She scrawled something onto her paper.  'Used to work at hospital.  Like to know meds exactly before I take them.'

     Nurse Ulrich sighed, watching her finish and finally bring the pill to her mouth. 

     Vanessa made a gesture, closed her mouth, and poured a cup of tea.  She swallowed several mouthfuls and heard the nurse walk away.  Holding a grin, Vanessa turned to Knives.  "Hungry?"

      "No.  Are you sure you're alright?" he replied.

      "Yes.  Hurts.  But okay."  She continued to make broken conversation with him, distracting him from her movements.  Reaching into a fold of bandaging at her left shoulder, she pulled out a second pill, hiding the pair in her right palm.  She grabbed for an empty cup and slipped her thumb into its base, crushing the pills to a powder before reaching to fill it with tea.  This she handed to Knives.  "Not best, but good.  Drink," she insisted, holding a cheery tone to her voice.

     Knives swallowed it and asked for a second.  "So do they think you'll be able to see soon?"

     Vanessa shrugged.  "Not sure.  Time will tell."  She was internally giddy, and it was a real effort to hide.  'Vash is coming!  Vash is here!  Oh, Vash, what took you so long!  Finally, we can make things right!  Oh, Vash, hurry up…He'll be asleep and harmless soon…'

      "They liked my suturing…Did they say if they'll heal without scars?" he asked, two doses of Demerol flowing into his stomach.  "You're too beautiful to have more scars."

      "Oh, Knives.  So superficial," Vanessa replied.  "Maybe scars, probably scars.  Bones heal slowest of all."

     Knives frowned.  They sat in an awkward pause.

      "I'm…medicine, sleepy," Vanessa whispered, pretending to grow tired.  She leaned against her pillows and breathed slower, until she was visibly asleep.

     Watching her sadly, Knives sat at her bedside as the medicine slowly affected his body.  Within minutes he would be groggy, and within an hour he would be unconscious.****

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/ufo2.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	44. CHAPTER ELEVEN: BELIEVE IN UFOs (cont1...

Finally it's posted…please review!  I'm in review withdrawl!!

---------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER ELEVEN:  BELIEVE IN UFOs  (cont1)

     Pacing in a circle about the abandoned campsite, Vash felt nauseous.  The suns set and moons arrived to fill a night sky; still he paced.  His boot treads left deep scrapes in the sand as his feet dragged anxiously along.  Both his eyes and lower lip were quivering slightly to compliment steady rivers of tears.  Face and back sticky in a cold sweat, he heaved sighs and useless whines into the void surrounding him.

     Suddenly, that familiar pang hit his mind like a bolt of icy light.

      "Knives!" he gasped, face snapped in the direction of May.  He flailed his arm behind him, reaching for his bag.  His fingers met the strings and whipped the cylindrical pack over his shoulder.  Vash disappeared into the night, awkward stumbles occasionally sending dusts of sand into the stale air behind him.

     Hal's head fell to Suze's feet.  Eyes widened in horror, she knelt down to cradle his lifeless body.  "Hal…you're going to be okay…" she whispered desperately, mind shut off from the truth of his decapitated form.

     Hovering over her, Knives stood swaying.  Broken handcuffs dangled from his right wrist; twisted slices of the other cuff lay fresh on the floor to his left.  "I…am NOT his son…" he stammered, blinking glazed eyes.  He couldn't feel the floor beneath him, as if gravity was nothing.  Behind him was the soft visitor's chair he vaguely recalled being asleep in.  That was before these meddling humans slapped cuffs on him and started their ridiculous accusations.

     He swung his head slowly around, trying to focus yet feeling dizzy where he stood.  The Agency Investigators' guns and rifles were scattered about, lost in tiny blood splatters.  Knives steadied himself against the wall and leaned towards the bed.  It was all white.  Where was Vanessa?

     A nurse halted in the doorway and began to scream for help.  Someone else yelled something about Vash's kids going crazy.

      "I am not his child," Knives whispered, attempting to find Vanessa with his gaze.

     A random group of men with guns rushed into the room and took aim at Knives.  "You bastard!  How'd you do this!?" they shrieked, staring in horror at Hal's dissected corpse and Suze.  Suze was in pure shock now, completely unaware of the bloody stump where her arm once resided.

     Knives looked up, and sent blades to carve these vermin into perfect slices.

      'Medical personnal…I shouldn't kill them…' his mind told him.  'Vanessa needs them…Vanessa…where…'

     But havoc had already broken out, and people were flying into the street to recruit brave souls.  "Vash's son's on the loose!  Kill him now, we'll figure out a bounty later!"

      "Did you hear that, Meryl?" Millie asked, craning her neck towards the road.

     Meryl lifted her head.  "…Uh, oh..."

     People began to leap into the station, rushing the ticket seller as if rabid.  Everyone seemed to be shouting urgently, and Millie and Meryl tried to pick up on the details from their seats.

     Apparently, Vash's evil children, much in keeping with their father's legend, were on a rampage.  The hospital was ground zero, and people were evacuating the other patients.  However, it was said that nearly no one could leave the building.  The place reeked of blood and with the exception of a few hundred strong arms in May, everyone was trying to get as far away from the city as possible.  They assumed that an explosion in July style should be occurring at any moment.

     Conductors thrashed their arms, shouts lost in the hum.  They indicated for all ticket holders to board immediately.  Tickets were running out fast, and soon as they were gone the steamer would shove off.

     Meryl and Millie, desperate to help, moved to the entrances and helped the elderly and weakened aboard.  Otherwise, there was danger of people being crushed in the rash surge of humans.

     The rush tapered off to a safer trickle, and Millie ran to Meryl.  "What should we do?" she asked, scared, but feeling too helpless.

     Meryl frowned.  "He told us to board the sand steamer.  This is Knives, after all – we don't stand a chance against him…"

      "I'd hate to disobey Mr. Vash, too, ma'am, but…"  Millie's eyes began to water.

      "Last call!  All aboard!" a man yelled frantically.

      "Well…I know, Millie.  I just don't think we have a choice."  She grabbed her rolling suitcase handle and felt the tickets in her pocket.

     Slowly, they marched towards a sand steamer boarding ramp.

     As they moved past, they noticed the 'Sold Out' sign dangling crooked in the ticket booth window.  People all around were arguing, yelling to find another way out of this Hell.

     A steamer worker tossed two ragged kids from the door.  Their eyes were wide with distress, hugging at each other as they scrambled to their feet.  "No ticket, no seat!" the man was yelling, turning back inside the steamer.

     Millie turned to gaze anxiously to Meryl.

     Reaching for the tickets, Meryl responded by handing Millie her own.  "We'll each have to decide for ourselves this time.  You do what you think is right, and I will, too."  She gripped her ticket fiercely, the words of her promise to Vash ringing in her mind.

      'Where is he?' Vanessa wondered, flattening herself from view along the alley wall.  Dropping her cloak carefully at her feet, she reached to adjust the cloth about her head, making sure her ears and face were properly hidden.  Satisfied, she bent to retrieve her cloak again, hugging it and its precious contents to her chest.  Inside were several vials of the eye solution she would need most of all.

     She wore her purple dress, cleaned but still cut at the back.  It was her hope that when the shouts about her indicated Vash's location in May, she could go there and let him recognize her by the purple dress.  Otherwise, she was hardly herself.

     Vanessa held her breath and strained to hear the voices about her.  Most of what she heard was too frantic to mean anything, and now the voices were far fewer.  She guessed that panic was spawned by Vash; it was his typical fashion to evacuate a town through acting.  A soft chuckle slipped past her lips, as she envisioned him waving that gun around, giving a speech about a daily massacre.  But where was he performing?

     A man was walking towards the alley, close enough for Vanessa to address without tripping.  "Excuse me, sir, where is Vash the Stampede?  I need to know which direction to run from."  It came out a little less frantic than she'd hoped, but at least she indicated some sort of fear.

     The man didn't reply at first.  He was confused.  "Vash?  Sweetheart, no!  It's not Vash."

      "Um…who is everyone afraid of, then?" she asked, throat suddenly feeling dry.

      "His kids!  They're killing people in the hospital left and right!  Those folks from the Agency told us they were dangerous, but…sheesh!  Couldn't they have picked a better way to catch them?  This is a disaster!  But, sweetheart, you need to hurry away, before the explosion!  Come with me, I'll make sure…"

     Vanessa shook her head.  "I've got a ride already, thanks," she responded, wandering dizzy back through the alley.

     Knives was completely out of it when she'd snuck out.  'How could he have woken so soon?' she wondered.  'Agency people?  Who?  Could they have…?  Oh, no; he's been provoked…and he's got to be reeling from the medication…'

     Deeply hidden in the alleyway, Vanessa slid down the wall, leaning back on her heels.  Her wounds were throbbing worse than ever, and that migraine had resurfaced behind her eyeballs.  She breathed deeply, hoping for her body to lend a bit more energy.

     'God, please let him pass out soon,' she prayed.  'Please give me the strength to get back there, somehow…And to sedate him again, to keep him from killing anyone…else…'

     She rested her covered, bandaged face against her palm.  'What now?  It's all my fault…How can I right this?  What have I…done…'****

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/ufo3.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	45. CHAPTER ELEVEN: BELIEVE IN UFOs (cont2...

Review if you dare!   …Please!

---------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER ELEVEN:  BELIEVE IN UFOs

     Coughing, Vash entered May and stumbled towards a toma trough.  His throat was tight and sore, so he drunk that nasty water.  After all, he needed to be able to breathe freely when confronting his brother.

     He wiped his mouth and began to scan the darkened town.  Nearly everyone was gone already.  "No bodies," he noted, only slightly relieved.

     A couple of trucks rolled slowly past him, filled with people dressed in hospital gowns.

     Vash ran over to the trucks and jogged alongside them.  "Excuse me, could you tell me where…The one who cause the trouble, I'm here to…"

     The patients remained stoic.  Only one replied. "Vash's kids…at the hospital," he murmured sadly.  Turning to face Vash, the man's eyes squinted to focus and then widened with a building horror.  "Oh my God, is that Vash!?  It's…It's Vash the Stampede!"

     The trucks suddenly jolted forward and sped into the night.

     Dropping his head, Vash sighed.  "…Since when did I have kids?  Hospital, huh?"  He cleared his mind of everything else, embarrassed to recall his recent inaction and attempting to maintain this newly built-up confidence.  "The hospital is…um…this way."

     Stepping along the abandoned streets, Vash began to pick up the faint odor of death.  Regardless of directions, he was mostly drawn to the hospital site by the smell, growing stronger and more terrifying with each drop of his boot.

     "Stop right there!" a shrill voice demanded.  There was a distinct metallic click in the distance.  "I mean it!  Get out of here, or I'll shoot, I really will!"

      "Millie!  It's me…Vash…"

     The gun fell to her side.  She didn't run to greet him, since she was stuck at that entrance by duty.  "Mr. Vash…Finally…"

     Vash ran to her, wincing at the sight of her injuries.  She had a black eye and a blood trial down her chin.  When she stepped a few paces in his direction, he noticed her limp.  "What are you doing here?"

     Millie cleared her throat, beginning to cry.  "I'm sorry, Mr. Vash, but we just couldn't get on that sand steamer!  There were these kids, and they ran out of tickets, and we think Mr. Knives was killing people, and we tried to save people, but lots of them fought their way in, and it's just awful," she rambled off quickly, stumbling over her words as the sobs grew.

     He listened with a frown, eyes downcast.  "I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier.  I'm so sorry."

      "You waste so much time being sorry!"  Meryl shuffled to them from the opposite entrance of the hospital.  That pristine, white dress and long cape of hers were dirty and mussed.  She had seen worse than Millie, and had bruises along her face and a bloody bandage over her shoulder.

      "Meryl!  You've been shot!?" Vash exclaimed, moving to help her sit.

     She shook her head.  "I'll be okay.  You go in and stop this nonsense…somehow."

     Millie stooped beside her long-time partner.  "Yes, Mr. Vash.  It's been quiet for a while, but they're still in there."

     Vash sprung to his feet and drew the gun. "Who?  Besides him I mean…Are there hostages?  Survivors?" he asked optimistically, letting his pack and cloak fall to the ground beside him.

     Millie looked warily at Meryl.  "Um, Mr. Vash, she's in there…"

      "What?  Millie, you let her in?" Meryl asked incredulously.  "She could be-"

     Vash moved past them and began to enter the building.  "Is she the only other person in there?"

      "Well, maybe," Millie answered.  "There was lots of screaming at first, then not much at all, and Miss Vanessa asked me to let her in, and after that I haven't really heard much.  You know, she didn't look too good to being with."

      "Be careful, damn it!" Meryl demanded.

     But he was already inside.

     The smell was strong, blood splashed in the tiniest droplets along every surface of the waiting room.  Signature incisions had been sliced into the walls, tearing chunks of plaster from edges.  Bits of human rested at various parts of the place.  They led a trail down a hallway.  The volume of blood grew to such that Vash nearly slipped.

     It was as silent as a grave in here, and a million times scarier.

     He drew his hidden gun and pointed both ahead of him, gritting his teeth in concentration.   'If he's killed her, I may not be able to…I'd shoot him…But…'  Vash shook those thoughts from his head.  'Got to find it before I react to it…'

     Doors all around him were flung open, but one was the source of the blood trail.  There were the most body parts here, stacked just inside the door.  The doorframe was nicked and carved as though by a hundred saws.  And there was a breathing sound…Yes, a hoarse sort of breathing.  As though through gritted, bared teeth.

     Gulping, Vash dashed inside and scanned the place for somewhere to aim his weapons.

     Vanessa looked up from her seat on the tiled floor.

     Vash's heart fell when he saw her.  She wore her purple dress, and the usual light blonde hair hung over her eyes and down her shoulders.  But besides these details, and her pointed ears, everything was wrong. The sleeves of the dress were rolled up to make way for the injuries.  Her left arm was bandaged to her chest, hand hidden in wrappings.  The other arm was covered in thick bandaging from elbow to armpit.  He couldn't see most of her face, or her eyes, through the mass of dressings.  Her neck, shoulder, and - as he guessed from the pattern of the diagonal - her back was also concealed behind the white strips and gauze.

     Most frightening of all was the contents of her lap.  There lay the source of everyone's problems these days.  Knives looked unscathed, shoulders propped up and head leaning against her chest.  He was motionless.

     Scattered around them was a conglomeration of random medical supplies – rolls of gauze, vials of medicines, pills, syringes, I.V.s, and a dozen other products Vash didn't care at the time to catalog.

     Vanessa's right hand held Knives' limp wrist between thumb and forefingers, feeling for a pulse.  She was the origin of the heady breathing, truly with teeth bared and clenched.  It was the only detail of her face in plain sight – the pointed side teeth and filed front teeth, through which a rasping, wet breath drew in and out quickly.  Her body was shaking, shivering from effort.

      "Get out while you still can!  Trying to be the hero – see what it got the other ones?  Hurry," she hissed, anticipating the intruder.

     Both guns were placed into their respective sheaths; the silver one into its holster and the machine gun lowered into the prosthetic.  Vash stepped forward and crouched in front of her, wishing he could meet her eyes.  Those deep, relaxing eyes that smiled honestly to him alone.  "…Vanessa," he whispered, voice cracking even with the few syllables.

     Something in her stance relaxed, but she remained tense with pain.

      "Vash…you're late," she whispered softly.****

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/ufo4.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	46. CHAPTER ELEVEN: BELIEVE IN UFOs (cont3...

Remember to visit my website for accompanying art!  Link at bottom of each section:

---------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER ELEVEN:  BELIEVE IN UFOs

     "Did he do…all this to you?" Vash asked, his heart torn between anger and depression.

     Vanessa nodded slightly.  "Funny thing, every one my fault completely," she murmured through gritted teeth, still panting and occasionally twitching strangely.  Her hand left Knives' wrist and probed the supplies beside her.

     Tears were now flowing freely down Vash's face, a feeling so familiar it was practically second nature by this time.  "But you're alive…Is there anyone else here who…who needs help?" he asked, looking around for a human not sliced into sections.

     Vanessa shook her head.  "All dead.  Horrible.  Not as bad when can't see it," she added, faintly bitter.  Her hand met a tiny jar of medicine.  She held up the vial in the direction of his voice.  "What does this say?"

     Vash felt Knives' neck for a pulse.  "Um, insulin.  What happened?  To you?  To him?  Anything…?"

     She dropped the previous jar and held up another one.  "This?"

      "Morphine.  Answer me, Vanessa!"

      "Later.  Now, need find anesthetics.  Wake soon.  Not good."  She lifted more bottles for him to identify, until one's name rang the right chord in her memory.  Unwrapping a syringe, she attempted to pop the needle into the bottle lid and fill it.  Her hand shook enough to make these tasks too difficult.

      "I'll do it," Vash offered, making the motions for her.

     She snatched the full syringe from him and awkwardly fumbled it in her fingers while she tried to find a vein in his arm with the same hand.  "My fault…I left…" she murmured, barely audible.

     Vash wiped the tears against his wrist and cleared his throat.  He gently took the syringe from her and administered the drug to his unconscious brother.  "Are you sure this is safe?"

     He heard her huff softly.  "Won't kill.  Only way."

      "Does it hurt to talk?  You're in pain…your injuries, how many are there…how serious are they?" he asked, feeling his throat tighten again as he tossed the used syringe aside.  He sniffed, and the sour smell of death hit his nostrils, reminding him of the more important questions.  "I think I've got things guessed out, but could you tell me anyway?  What happened in the desert, all these weeks?  Did he bring you here to heal you after he tried to kill you?"

     She shook her head.  "Forced him angel arm in sleep."

      "Was it an accident?"

     Again, she shook her head, and pointed to her eyes.  'His memories; I know plans now,' she mouthed silently.  Pointing to Knives, she continued.  'Doesn't know I know.'

      "And it worked?  But it hurt you in the process," he whispered, a combination of relief and concern.

     Vanessa nodded.  "Will heal."

     Vash reached out and touched her face.  "I want to take the burden from you now, okay?  You've sacrificed enough."

     She didn't respond.  Feeling Knives' pulse had lowered to into the right bracket, she slid her legs from beneath Knives' limp body and laid him gingerly on the floor.  Shuffling over to a row of shelves in the far room, she indicated for Vash to follow.

     It was dark, and Vash pulled the string light.  He read off the labels on the cases of medical supplies as she pointed.  Vash drew out a cloth bag and began to fill it with the things she specified.  They accumulated a massive quantity of syringes, anesthesia, adrenaline, extra wiring, and a monitor for heartbeat and brain activity.

     Vash received no answers regarding her own plans, but soon she began to reveal some of what she had learned.  "He wants go to ships, after land.  Try study technology, copy, steal, or build own ship, go to Earth kill human race.  More thorough that way," she whispered, panting as though running a marathon.

     Clutching the full bag and monitor under the same arm, he helped Vanessa out of the hospital.  Vash left her outside with Meryl while Millie went to fetch the mini hummer.  He dropped the supplies beside them, rushed back inside, and carried Knives out.

     Meryl shivered.  "You must be joking," she hissed, eyes wide with fear.

      "We can't leave him here," Vash replied.  "Vanessa, do you have a plan from here?"

     She nodded slowly.  "Take me, him, supplies to cave.  Will hold him with drugs.  Sedate till ships long gone."

      "No."  Vash knelt beside her and gave her an awkward hug to avoid pressing into the bandaged areas.  "If you stay, I will, too.  Actually, you should escape, and I'll stay with him."

     Meryl rolled her eyes - half jealous, half disgusted.  "For crying out loud…No one has to stay!  Vanessa, you know all about these chemicals and medicines, right?  Can't you keep him under such that you two can board the ships, and he won't wake up until the coast is clear?"

     Vanessa gritted her teeth.  "Is chance, but…not sure…"

      "Well, we're going to try," Meryl responded, lifting herself to her feet as the mini hummer slowly approached.  "Let's get out of here while we still can."

      "And go where?" Millie asked, jumping out of the mini hummer to help everyone aboard.  She, too, shivered at the sight of Knives.

      "Turn the engine off!" Vanessa cried out suddenly, scrambling to stand.

     Startled, Millie, rushed back to turn the keys.  The hummer shuddered to a silent halt.  All became respectfully silent, watching Vanessa crane her neck towards what they themselves couldn't hear.

     Vanessa's arm raised and she pointed to what she heard.  "They're here!  That way!"

      "The ships?  You can hear the rescue ships?" Millie whispered, excitement growing.

      "They're going to the same place?  They'd go to the most populated city…Yes, it makes sense…They're headed for December!"  Vash's face lit up, forgetting the dread which the ships brought alongside hope.

     Meryl nodded, smiling.  "Yeah, December's about 80 iles in that direction!  Let's go to December, then!"****

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/emigration1.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	47. CHAPTER TWELVE: EMIGRATION

CHAPTER TWELVE:  EMIGRATION

     Vash reached for their cloaks and began to cover that which needed hiding.  Knives, who was laid across Vanessa and Vash's laps in the back of the hummer, had to be covered completely.  Vanessa was in too much pain to talk or move, considering her day-old wounds and the bumpy ride, so Vash also had the task of cloaking her entirely.  And since Vash the Stampede was just as wanted as his 'kids' now, Vash had to envelop himself in a cloak as well.

      "We're going to look pretty silly.  Those ships should distract people from us, I hope," Meryl muttered, squinting to see the moonlight reflected off the ships.  She yawned, and tried to nudge Millie awake.

     Exhausted, they all envied Millie for her gentle slumber, and even Knives for his drug-induced unconsciousness.

     Vash felt himself nodding off, but catching Vanessa's stiff pose in the corner of his eye brought him to attention.  Knowing not to touch where she was hurt, he reached over and traced the back of her neck.  He stroked the skin curve just behind her ear and softly described the ships to her.  "There's three of them, twenty stories tall and smooth metal.  Shaped like buildings, except rounded on the bottom.  I can't see what keeps them steady, but they might be hovering.  Looks like they landed right next to December, and they're already setting up what looks like really big tents.  Probably to house people before boarding.  There ought to be plenty of space for the population."

     Vanessa nodded, head tilting into his touch.  Checking Knives' pulse again, she was reminded of the need for a secluded place here, in this bustling city.  Knives was too dangerous; she couldn't let him ruin lives again.

     Once within December, Millie awoke and went about finding a place to rent.  She was the least suspicious, healthiest of them all at that point, and found a surprising energy.  In no time, she returned to the hummer with keys, informing them of a nice, little apartment complex basement the owner didn't care about.  "This way, rent's cheap, and Mr. Vash will have privacy and security to hold Mr. Knives," she reasoned, smiling happily.

     Thanking the girls, Vash rushed to get his fellow plant children and their supplies into that basement.  He helped Vanessa to rest on a cot, and laid Knives across another.  Wasting no time, he began turn the dank rooms into a temporary home.

     First, he found a mirror and arranged his hair and clothes such that he wouldn't be recognized.  Properly disguised, he headed out with a wad of double dollars into the dreary morning hours.  Some shops were just opening, and he rushed to find what they'd need.  He filled a backpack with cleaning supplies, bedding, and food.  At a discount furniture store, he arranged for all he could afford – one twin-sized bed (he had to chuckle at this, since it would be his twin's bed), one queen-sized futon, a small table, and a set of four chairs.  They would be delivered to the basement later that afternoon, so he hurried back to check on his brother and Vanessa.

     He found that Vanessa had already found her way into the bathroom, and was soaking in the tub.  Knives was still quite unconscious, so Vash worked in the kitchenette to prepare a small meal for two.

     But when Vanessa came out of the bath, dressed again in the purple dress, she walked past the food and made her way to Knives.  "Vash, come read this for me," she called from the next room.

     He prepared a syringe and filled it with the specified chemical.  But when he went to find a vein, Vanessa stopped him, insisting that she learn to do this sightless.  Vash led her to the vein and bit his lip as she performed the injection.  "The furniture will be delivered in a few hours; why don't you eat something and I'll get things cleaned up?" he suggested, lifting a blanketed Knives onto his shoulder and carrying him into the bathroom.  Knives would have to rest in the tub until after the movers had come and gone.

     Vanessa felt her way back to the other room and picked up a sandwich.  She'd forgotten how long it had been since her last meal.

     Turning back from the bathroom, Vash stopped and stared at her.  In this weak light, he had just noticed the long, dark rows of stitches.

     Sensing his pause, Vanessa swallowed the rest of her breakfast and explained.  "Took off those dirty bandages.  Let wounds air out for now.  Sorry.  I'm sure I look nasty," she apologized.  "I'll hide in bathroom when they get here, too."

     With an awkward chuckle, Vash moved to the sandwiches.  He grabbed one for himself and a second for her, and leaned against the cold, stone wall alongside her.  "You don't look nasty.  You just invoke a lot of pity like this," he replied sweetly.  "I still like you, no matter what."

     Vanessa lowered her head, shook it slightly side to side, and began to laugh.

     Vash frowned.  "Hey, I'm serious," he whined.

     She sighed and turned to him smiling.  "You're darling, Vash.  Really the sweetest thing."  Reaching out with her sore right arm, she tried to find his shoulder and missed.

     He grabbed her hand and gave it a little squeeze.  "I was so worried about you.  There are a lot of things we need to talk about."

      "There most certainly are."  She flashed another genuine smile and bit into her sandwich.

     After helping Vash to wash the thick layer of grime from the basement, Vanessa hid with Knives in the bathroom while the furniture arrived.  Once the men had departed, she came back out to pull the linens into place, trying to memorize the rooms' space as she went.  Finally, Knives was placed onto his bed in the side room.

     Vanessa wandered into the room and began to arrange their medical arsenal onto a crude shelf.  "Where's your bed, Vash?" she whispered.

      "Um…oh, sorry, I couldn't afford another one.  That sounds like a lie, doesn't it…?"  He stopped pulling the sheets into place and scratched the back of his head.  "I'll sleep way over on the side; you won't know I'm there!"

     She laughed softly.  "Sure."

      "Plus, it's kind of cold down here," he mumbled, turning to maneuver a warning device.  He rigged the heart and brain monitor to electrodes on Knives' chest and forehead, and wired a little device into the main room such that it would let an alarm if his vitals dropped or rose beyond the specified bracket.  If everything was fine, it would sound a white noise; if the device received no signal, the sound would stop completely.  Thus, they decided they could close Knives into this room once in a while and be assured safety.

     The rest of the afternoon was spent planning out their lives in this basement.  Knives' health would deteriorate after time, since this constant flow of drugs would weaken him.  So, Vanessa suggested he be allowed to come to consciousness once a day, at night, under Vash's watchful eye.  During this time, they could feed him a main meal and chat, though obviously it would be dangerous.

      "When the ships leave," Vanessa explained, "I can medicate him such that he'll be out for 72 hours solid.  This is sufficient to be gone from the atmosphere before he's awake.  But things could still go wrong, so we'll need my back up plan."

     Vash shook his head, catching himself in the futility of the action.  "I'm not leaving you here alone.  That's just ridiculous.  If it happened that one of us would stay, it'd be me.  Not you."

      "I don't like the humans.  Not like you do," Vanessa reminded him, leaning back against the hard chair.  She flinched, and bent forward again.  "Um…So if one of us leaves, it'd be you!  I'd rather stay here than go to Earth without you."

      "Well, I'm not leaving without you.  No way – not alone with him," Vash asserted, wondering again just what his brother had done to her thus far.  "You know what he'd do with you if you stay."

     She nodded.  "I wouldn't worry about that so much.  Not in the long run."

      "Huh?"  Vash looked at her, confused.  But facial expressions couldn't convey much to she who was sightless.  "That plant army he wants you to provide?  What makes you think-"

      "Impossible," Vanessa declared, voice growing quiet.  "As the saying does, one cannot draw blood from a turnip.  Damage of the past rendered me unable to…The doctor said so."  She bit her lip, mouth drawn together as she rethought her revelation.

     Vash opened his mouth to reply, but then the reality of it set in.  He watched a few tears fall from the creases of her reddened eyelids.

     "Sorry I lied before.  I didn't think it was your business, and…You know, it's the one thing that gives me leverage against him, and…um…Well…"  Her voice was cracking and she truly wished she could see him now, to analyze whatever reaction Vash was having.

     He scooted his seat from the table and walked behind her.  Folding his arms about her shoulders, he leaned forward and kissed her unharmed cheek.  "It's okay.  Really.  It's okay now."  In truth, a part of him was crushed.  'There goes my chance at fatherhood,' he thought, instantly feeling the guilt of his own selfishness.****

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/emigration2.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	48. CHAPTER TWELVE: EMIGRATION (cont1)

CHAPTER TWELVE:  EMIGRATION  (cont1)

     Technology far more advanced than the lost sort that residents of Gunsmoke built superstitions about was suddenly abuzz in every inhabited corner of the planet.  Silent hovercrafts soared above the sands, rushing to inform all humankind of the emigration.  Everyone was told to gather in May, where food, lodging, and rehabilitation seminars were to be provided.  

     At first, people were suspicious, wary of being dazzled too easily by such tales of fancy.  But as they came to realize the great things awaiting them on Earth, they softened to the alien guests.  Sure, the newcomers talked funny, what with their big fancy words, accents, 'proper English', and weird slang, but they were good people.  Earthlings became known as the most intelligent, healthiest humans ever.  Before long, fathers were encouraging their sons to join the Earth military upon arrival, and mothers attempted to match their daughters to the fine Earthmen.

     Any complaints or mistrusts were easily put aside once people arrived in December.  They dined on the finest-tasting foods and enjoyed something called 'air conditioning,' which made life like Heaven.  The endless shows of a dazzlingly realistic quality displayed the wonders Earth life had to offer.  On Earth, no one went hungry, or was alone.  Everyone could find love and happiness, wealth and success, nature and inventions.  War hadn't broken out in any of the main four countries in the last 54 years, and the exquisite criminal corrections systems insured peace for residents of any section of society.  A mammoth 2-year fundraiser had raised sufficient funds to provide housing and resources for the emigrants.  New industries had been encouraged to secure openings for all new labor, and the education and training necessary to utilize the advanced technologies would be provided for in entirety on the ride back to Earth.

     Orientation for Gunsmoke residents was a process, and began quite slowly.  Such primitive people had to be eased into this level of sophistication.  Weeks passed, and the progress was highlighted by the drastic decline in drunken merriment.  The excitement had dulled to relief, and even Vash and Vanessa came to relax.

     Slowly, Knives' eyes cracked open.  He groaned, finding himself once more in the gentle nightmare of captivity.

      "Good evening, Knives.  Vash made a wonderful lasagna for you," Vanessa informed softly.  Stitches removed, she could now smile fully.

     Placing a spoon in Knives' right hand, Vash grinned.  "I didn't burn it this time."

     Knives squinted in the sudden light, and yawned.  He jostled his limbs a bit to learn that they were still secured by straps and chains.  "I feel like shit.  Vanessa, I hope you realize that you're slowly killing me," he growled, beginning to dive into his food with the one free hand.

     Vanessa smirked at the comment.  "You'll be fine…in time.  Considering what you've put me through, you can chalk this all up to my own revenge.  I mean, since you think that back when Vash had you tied in bed at his place, it was because Vash wanted revenge for your nasty tricks towards him.  Nothing terribly personal, just friendly retribution.  And only temporary, of course."

     Scowling, Knives fell back into his pillows, panting merely from the effort of eating.  Such slight movements were all he could handle in his weakened state, proof that he had no way out.  Beads of sweat began to form on his brow as he caught his breath.  His steely blue eyes focused uneasily on Vanessa.  "You know…I would still forgive you.  If you changed your mind," he whispered to her.

      "I'm still deciding," she murmured, reaching for a bottle of medicine and a syringe.  "For now, I've got to put you under again.  Alright?"

     In his condition, he could still have given a struggle.  Yet he hadn't.  Something inside him had changed, and he could no longer question her methods.  Somehow, he sympathized with her determination, to keep him alive and save the humans as well.  He had come to admire that about her, that she was so strong.  These newfound emotions led him to a new conclusion – that it would be difficult to break her spirit when the time came; he would almost hate to see the fire in her die.  But it was for the good of the species, he reminded himself, justifying the plans in his mind.

     Dropping his arm back into the open cuffs, he allowed Vash to buckle and lock him into place as Vanessa delicately injected the chemicals.  "Goodnight, Vanessa."  Those sad, gorgeous eyes closed once more, not to be seen again until tomorrow night.

      "Oh, things are going well.  He's been well-behaved.  And Vanessa thinks she'll be able to see colors and shapes soon," Vash explained cheerfully, helping the girls with their luggage.  "But we'll still have to wait until nearly takeoff to board."

     Meryl frowned.  "If you miss it, I swear…"

      "Yeah, Mr. Vash, we really want to spend time with you on the ride to Earth!" Millie agreed, turning their weaponry in at the bins outside the loading ramp.  "Peaceful days just wouldn't be fun without you!"

     Vash smiled.  "You know I'll try!  Don't worry about me, I'll be fine whatever happens."

     Millie fumbled for her new ID.  "What're you going to do about the medical check, Mr. Vash?  They said you can't get these card things without it."

     He shrugged.  "We've got to cooperate, and hope that we slide by.  We'll do things by the rules, and with any luck things will turn out okay."

     A man in a very clean outfit walked towards them, "Good afternoon, ladies!  I'll be taking your luggage and get you moved into your quarters.  Remember, once boarded, you must remain aboard.  Ready?"

     Meryl nodded, but turned to shake Vash's hand.  "Bye."

     Vash grinned, and took her into a hug.  "Vanessa says goodbye, since she couldn't come.  Take care of yourselves.  I'll try to keep things as safe as possible."

     Millie flew at them, crying and hugging as tightly as she could.  "Oh, Mr. Vash!"

     As the pain of the last, truest goodbye hit them, they all began to cry.  After prying themselves apart, the two girls slowly marched away from him, into the unknown, perhaps for the last time.

     When Vash returned to the basement, he couldn't find Vanessa.  "Hey, where are you, Vanessa?" he called, knocking on the bathroom door.

     He received no answer, but thought he heard a light groan from Knives' room.  Opening the door, he saw her lifting herself from the floor.

     Vash rushed to Vanessa.  A thin trail of blood ran from her forehead down the side of her face, and she sat cradling her head in her hands.  "What happened, did you hit your head on that shelf again?" he asked, checking through her hair for the wound.

      "No…oh, no…"

     He tilted her face up and his throat tightened.  "Um, what is it then?" he responded, voice full of hope.

      "He's gone," she answered, shaking her head miserably.  "His body was adjusting to the doses more than I'd guessed…Before his afternoon injection, he came to consciousness for too long.  He cut the monitor; I didn't know!  I…and when I went in there, he was escaping, and he…"  She sighed, heart racing.

     A little chunk of the ceiling lay beside her.  It looked as though Knives had carved it to drop on her head, knocking her out to quiet her during his flight from the basement.

      "He was almost out of the chains and all, so I hurried to inject, but they were sliced up as soon as I…The angel arm, he used it to get out, but he sounded like it took all he had to…Tired and panting, but enough to leave.  And he…he asked me if I was going to…with him…So I told him to find me at the ships' last call and I'll give him my…um, my decision…It's the only thing…to…um…and then I fainted or something, and…and you got here…just now…"

      "Okay.  So…we'll anticipate the things he planned before.  And we wait until last call, and…"  Vash cleared his throat, and hugged her tight.  "We'll see.  I'll think of something."****

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/emigration3.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	49. CHAPTER TWELVE: EMIGRATION (cont2)

CHAPTER TWELVE:  EMIGRATION  (cont2)

     In this delightful air of expectations and new beginnings hung an isolated cloud of worry.  Nevertheless, Vash still found time to sneak away from his patrol and mingle with the various tent-fulls of people.  For sporadic minutes, he would clown onto the scene and distract folks from their studies, beckoning children to come out and play.  He still asked if anyone had seen his twin - a tall, blonde man - walking about, and his guard was never fully down, but without human contact he just couldn't feel like his usual, goofy self.  Vash certainly wasn't pleased that Knives was on the loose, but was highly relieved to be out of that stuffy, old basement for good.

     Money wasn't an issue in the settlement, so Vanessa and Vash had locked up their basement and begun to live in the tents, taking turns patrolling for Knives, but not expecting to see him just yet.

     The clock was counting down, and last call was fast approaching.  The populations of humans in the tents dwindled in the hundreds, as opposed to the past thousands.  Nearly all had boarded, and no major violent incidents had been reported.

     Finding himself in the chokehold of an 8-year-old, Vash reflected on Vanessa's theories as to why Knives hadn't yet made any moves.  'He's bogged down from the medications, so he likely hasn't been healthy enough to act without drawing suspicion.  She said he'd have trouble with balance, eyesight, and fainting for a few days, and he would have to overcome the drug withdrawal before becoming healthy.  The addiction we'd inadvertently caused in him is keeping him too nauseous to eat.  But since his breakout was just this past Thursday…Any day now, he should start to meddle with the ships.  Boy…Knives getting a ship and flying to Earth, to destroy all of mankind…Now, THAT doesn't sound good at all…'

     Vash brushed himself off and waved goodbye as the children dispersed.

     "Hey, Mr. Vash, how come you don't ever have to do these boring studying things?" a little voice asked him, while tugging at the leg of Vash's jeans.  "It's not fair."

     Vash lifted Tommy into the air and gave him a little hug.  "I'm sorry, I guess it's really not!  But it's 'cause I already know that stuff!  I'm a really quick learner."  He set the little boy down in the sand and ushered him towards the tent.  "Now, if you work real hard, you can probably get smarter than me some day!"

     Tommy pouted a little, but sped along regardless.

      "Vash!"  Vanessa ran towards him, holding the long, white scarf close about her head with her good arm, the fracture healed.  The other arm was still in a sling, since its shoulder blade still hadn't completely fused.  Despite her healing, it was a wonder she could run without tripping, in his general direction, since her sight was limited to a blurry squint.  "Vash!  You won't believe it!"

     He rested his hands on her shoulders as she sat back on her heels to catch her breath.  "Holy crap, what?" he asked anxiously.  "Did he…was it him?"

     Vanessa smiled.  "Uh, huh!  He was trying to enter the ships!  But he was stopped by a porter; asked him for his ID.  Instead of killing the man, because I would guess Knives knows better than to do that now, he turned around and stumbled off!  In his condition, there's no way he could make it aboard.  He'll never accomplish that goal of his…He'd hardly be able to angel arm at all, the way he was weaving about!"

     Vash collapsed onto his rear.  He laughed softly.  "Are you sure?  That's great!  Wow…But did he see you?"

      "No, I don't think so.  But it's not like I could see well enough anyhow – most of the details I got from the porter afterwards.  I don't expect he'll be around until last call."  She grinned, and patted Vash's knee.  "See?  No need to worry!" he reassured, squinting to see his expression and failing.

      "Yeah, that's good news," Vash repeated softly.  "But you've yet to tell me what you plan to tell him."

     Vanessa shook her head, grin fading into a façade.  She stood, dusting the sand from her dress, and brushed past him on the way to a tent.  "It's my decision.  You'll have to wait."  

     Watching her over his shoulder, Vash remained slumped in the sand.  He pulled his knees to his chest and set his chin upon them.  "Why won't you tell me?" he whispered to no audience.  He again felt that familiar and loathed supposition – that she would choose to stay with Knives in a last-ditch effort to save the ships.  Vash knew that if she told him that she would, the surprise he'd register might clue Knives in to the lie.  If she was going to try to solve things on her own again, she would make the charade far more realistic.

     Back in the basement, when things had been so in control and peaceful, Vanessa had begun to truly warm to him.  They'd stayed up talking every night, laughing as they shared happy tales, and crying as they indulged in the sad ones.  And she hadn't complained about the sleeping situation – in fact, she had chosen to curl beside him as they slept, wrapping her good arm around his waist and tickling his ear with her breath.  It was as though they'd picked up where they left off, back in his hotel room in May.  Her smiles were always real, and so long as they weren't in Knives' room, she tended to accept hugs gratefully and kissed him for such long periods of time.

     A blush arose on his cheeks as he giggled in spite of himself.

     She had come to trust him completely, and showed so much affection.  Though she seemed such a cold, stoic survivor during their time alone, she was far more passionate in private than he'd guessed.  In that dank basement, with nothing but each other for entertainment, he never found himself bored.  Not with Vanessa.  She was special, somehow, and he enjoyed her true nature.

     But then Knives broke out; they abandoned their home, and things changed greatly between the two of them.  Vanessa suddenly insisted on sleeping alone, and showed Vash no physical affection.  Only in brief moments - like when she had first lifted those scarred eyelids and found herself to not be blind - did a bright smile shine through her serious expressions.  It was as if she was letting him down gently, disguising her self-sacrifice as a simple breakup.

     Vanessa didn't know that so many times, when she had taken over their patrol for Knives and left Vash to rest, he had risen and wandered out into the desert to practice his angel arm.  Not since battling his brother so long ago had he flexed the ability, yet Vash was certain that his skill with the weapon would make the difference between his own happiness with Vanessa and Knives'.  

      'I've got to protect Vanessa from him,' Vash thought, staring at his right arm apprehensively.  'With my control perfected somewhat, I should be able to fight him without killing anyone.'

     At last call, Vash found himself and their luggage alone at the far edge of the ships.  He'd asked Vanessa to hurry here after her checkup.  At this point, hopefully no one would see their angel arms, or at least not be harmed by them.

     He stiffened as his brother approached, hands in pockets, wearing a clever grin and clean suit.

      "Hey, Vash.  So where is she?  You're not moronic enough to make a trap of this, are you?" Knives asked impatiently, stopping within earshot of Vash but not so close as to invite an attack.

     Vash smirked.  "We know about your plans, and I'm not going to let you take a ship.  You're staying here, to watch over these plants, to leave humans alone forever."

     Knives rolled his eyes.  "Whatever, Vash.  Whatever."

     "You know I can beat you, again.  And I will," Vash continued, gesturing a little with his right hand.

     "Is Vanessa coming or not?" Knives repeated, leaning against a nearby crate casually.

     Vash bit his lip and attempted to match that level of calm.  "Still at her medical check.  She'll be back any minute."  His hand drew into a fist as he glanced up into the sky, wishing this stupid confrontation was already over and won.

     They stood rigid in a long pause, each wary of the other's subtle movements.

     "Sorry I'm late, it took longer than usual," Vanessa called to them, arm over her chest as she strode forward.

     "Vanessa, hurry and board!  I'll take care of things out here…"  Vash lifted his right arm slightly from his side, hoping to appear as valiant as he envisioned himself.

     Knives stepped forward.  "No, she's going to answer my request first.  As agreed."

     "I already know what you're going to say, and I'm not going to let you make that mistake," Vash whispered to her, hoping Knives wouldn't hear.

     "Well, whatever you think I'm going to say, let it be known that I've changed my mind since this morning anyways.  Have some faith in me – I'll do my penance yet," she replied softly, face a little pale.

     He moved to protest, but was interrupted.

     "Vanessa, I'd like to speak with you without that knucklehead overreacting," Knives called.

     She nodded slightly, avoiding Vash's eyes.  "Vash, please just relax.  No need for violence."

     Vash's face reddened.  That should be his line…

     Vanessa walked slowly and deliberately toward Knives.  She lifted her palm to his forehead.  "How are you feeling?  I hope the withdrawal wasn't too harsh.  I'm really sorry we had to do that to you," she apologized, in a low, genuine tone.

     'I'm worried about him too, but sheesh!  Does she have to say it like THAT?'  Vash rolled his eyes, hoping one of them saw.  'This is just like at the cave…Damn it…'

     Knives smiled and said something Vash couldn't hear.  Hand reaching for Vanessa's face, Knives began to look concerned, whispering to her about the injuries, most likely.

     Vash stepped forward a little, just enough to hear what they were talking about.  He frowned, picking up the all-too friendly tones of voice as she explained her healing and accepted his apologies.  

     "I hate to rush things along, but I think you should reveal your decision, Vanessa," Knives asked, hiding impatience and growing more and more confident of the answer as this went on.  He moved his hand along the unscarred half of her face, running his fingertips through her hair as he smiled.

     She reached up and took his hand from her face.  Holding it in her own, firmly, she grinned uneasily.  "If I fulfilled our promise, and stayed with you, would you spare the humans' lives?  For me?" she asked sweetly, gazing into his face as nicely as she could when squinting this hard.

     Knives smiled and moved closer to her.  "For you, I would do anything.  Yes, I'd let them all live, if you wish."

     Vash gasped.  Even if he was serious, wasn't it more important for Vanessa to be happy?  Could he really let her sacrifice her will to him, even if it was for the benefit of an entire species?  He knew the answer to that – any sacrifice they could make was worth all of these lives, these millions and billions of souls.  Shoulders slumping, he resigned to his pathetic existence, only there as a backup soldier, should action arise.****

NEXT SECTION:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/emigration4.html

HOMEPAGE:  http://hometown.aol.com/artchick12/myhomepage/index.html


	50. CHAPTER TWELVE: EMIGRATION cont3

THE ENDING YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOR!!! And please review!!!

---------------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER TWELVE: EMIGRATION (cont3)

"Knives, that's sweet of you." Still grasping his hand in her own, she tucked his wrist under her chin and strained to focus. Concentrating this much, she could almost make out his facial expression. "But you're lying. No matter what agreements we've tried, for you to spare the humans, you'd never honor a single one."

He pulled his hand from her grasp and sighed. "So then...No?"

Vanessa shook her head. "I'm leaving with Vash."

Knives chuckled, glancing over her shoulder at Vash, whose chin was dangling open. "I'm not about to let that happen. You're staying with me, to fulfill your duties to the race."

"And if I stayed, and Vash left, you'd spare the ships?" she asked, a clever smirk emerging upon her lips. "No, you'd kill your only brother along with them, wouldn't you."

Hiding shock with offense, Knives frowned. "No, I wouldn't."

"Yes, you would. I saw it in your mind," Vanessa whispered, waiting for him to realize the truth. "I saw everything."

Knives gulped. He gently traced a scar line from the corner of her eye to her chin. So THAT's what she was doing, not committing suicide...

"I'd hate for Vash to find out, though," she whispered softly. "It would break his heart to know that his only brother doesn't care about him anymore...Finally resolving to cut him down should he stand in the way of your goals...Which he is."

"Unfortunately, yes. I've lost the ability to love a brother so blinded by lies and false compassion," he admitted. "My choice is inevitable – Vash will die if he boards or stays. Regardless, you're coming with me."

Shaking her head, Vanessa sighed impatiently. "Well, that's no plan! You know, if I stay, and you attack those ships, I'd throw myself in the way. I have a penance to fulfill, don't I, Vash? Those humans will be killed only over my dead body."

Knives shook his head with more confidence in response. "The first place we're going is that basement, where I'll use some of those anesthetics to render you unconscious for the duration of this rescue ship nonsense. You'll miss the entire display, but you'll live. Now, I'd appreciate it if you'd stop wasting breath, and come with me," he added, grabbing her hand urgently.

Vash stepped forward again. "Let her go, Knives!"

"What, is my timid little brother going to blow me away? Join reality, Vash. Any action you make is futile," he called over his shoulder as he began to drag Vanessa away.

Vanessa planted her bare feet square in the sand and fought his pull. "You can't use those drugs on me! Trust me, you can't!" she insisted, less in fear than in certainty.

Knives stopped tugging her and turned to scowl. "I can and I will."

"I love Vash," Vanessa snarled, tensing against his touch. "I'm going with him, whether you like it or not, because it's the only logical option you have."

Behind her, Vash let a muffled roar of frustration.

Seeing the hurt in Knives' expression, Vanessa continued. "You know why I love him and not you? Because of your superiority complex. Because when you kiss me, it's bitter and cold, while Vash's kisses are as pure and sweet as he is. That sick pride and bloated ego of yours will prevent you from becoming anything better than his evil twin."

Gritting his teeth, Knives whirled to face her, squeezing her fingers tightly in rage. "Take that back...Before my anger leads me to wield violence against you," he threatened, drawing his left hand into a fist and lifting it before her face.

Vash flew at Knives, wrenching his hand from hers, narrowing his eyes furiously. "I'll shoot you again, if I'm driven to it, Knives!"

Vanessa rushed between them, causing Vash to step back. "No one's shooting up, blowing up, or slicing up anybody, or anything! And nobody's preventing those ships from a safe homecoming. If you two fight, I'm going to get in the way and mess things up, so just give up. Both of you. Step back, Vash. There's no need for hostility."

Attempting to argue, Vash did as told and kept a keen eye on his brother.

She took a deep breath and continued. "Let me talk, I have something important I-"

"You lost the right to speak the moment you uttered those things!" Knives hissed.

"Vanessa, we've got to stay," Vash argued, placing his hand on her shoulder. "As much as I hate to say it, we have to ensure..."

"Go ahead and board!" Knives stated, eyebrows lifted as his voice assumed a calmer tone. "It would sadden me, but if I must, I will destroy the two of you along with the humans."

"So easily...You've decided that I, too, am expendable, huh?" Vanessa muttered.

Knives nodded solemnly. "Betrayal after betrayal, insult after insult...I will not forgive such morose, delusional brats as you. Board the ship. All sinners will pay...I'll cut the two of you down as I would any other thieving parasite."

"No you won't," Vanessa replied earnestly. "Hate us all, but there's one you can't destroy..." Taking advantage of this vulnerable moment, she grabbed Knives' hand roughly and held his palm against her stomach.

Knives stood agape, frozen in surprise, as was Vash.

"For this you will have to spare everyone," she continued, squinting to judge any response he may give. "I think it's a girl. I think we'll name her Tessla."

Vanessa let her hand fall away, but still Knives touched her abdomen, feeling for the independent heartbeat within.

"A full-blooded plant," she added softly. Turning her head to Vash, she added with a smile, "I thought they were crazy when they told me, at the checkup...but it's true. You're going to be a father, Vash, just like you wanted!"

Vash suddenly relaxed, and he shut his mouth.

Turning back to Knives, Vanessa's voice became gentle and soothing. "As the first one born of a plant angel, Tessla was wrongly killed by the humans. As the first second-generation plant child, our Tessla should be allowed the chance to breathe and live, don't you agree? You couldn't kill Tessla...could you?"

Knives' gaze fell, and his arms lay limp at his sides.

She reached to him, hugging him softly, the first truly felt embrace she ever gave him. "We have to go raise our children with other children. You stay here. Tend to the plants and make the Eden – I'll bet some of our children will want to return here one day. If the humans are too harsh, they'll need an alternative. We'll tell them about you, their Uncle Knives who would take them in should they need him. The three of us - we'll work to make them happy no matter what, okay?" she whispered blissfully, drawing back to see his expression.

Knives frowned. His skin felt cold and itchy all over. This was the checkmate he hadn't allowed himself to expect. This was the key to sabotaging his plans, to reduce him to a mere observer of an accursed emigration.

His heart broken, he could only let a weak smile. So she wouldn't love him. And she never would. But perhaps one day her children might. Perhaps...

"One day the Eden will be complete, then," he surmised, glancing into Vash's wide eyes before turning to leave without further incident. They watched him slink away from the human vermin and the only sentient members of his race; stealing into the desert alone, the abandoned plants his only solice.

Letting an obvious sigh of relief, Vash squatted to rest in the sand beside Vanessa. He scratched the back of his head and began to chuckle nervously. "That was the most clever...Wow, with acting that good and a lie that perfect...You know, you just saved everyone!? And it was so much easier than-"

"Are you calling me a liar?" Vanessa turned to him and put her hand on her hip. "That was the truth. At the check up, the lady said I'd healed. They tested me, and I'm pregnant. Really, I am! It's not something I'd thought could happen...but..." Her voice suddenly quieted, and she looked to her feet nervously. "Not exactly the way I wanted to break the news."

Vash felt his throat tighten. He wanted to yell something extremely loud, but restrained himself. Looking at her as if she were a semi and he were a deer, he inhaled, deep and long. Finally breaking out of his shock, he wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face between the folds of her cloak and began to weep.

Vanessa knelt to hug him as he sobbed. "Um, Vash? Are you crying because you're upset, or are you happy?"

Lifting his face to show her a quivering-lipped smile, he nodded. "Couldn't be happier."

Together, they stumbled, giggling because no words seemed necessary, to the ships' main ramp. Luggage in tow, they held out their IDs and boarded. Hours later, they were gazing with wonder a starry galaxy, and the tiny speck Gunsmoke became - a mere memory of a planet in the distance.

THE END...

...But...This story doesn't just end there! Wanna know what happens next?

SEQUEL: DISAPPOINTING MARTYRS, story ID # 838354

Link: 

Or click onto my author page for a link


	51. CONTINUED

This story is continued in DISAPPOINTING MARTYRS


End file.
